


Icon

by kydcorez



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Also There's Like Zero Mentions Of Any Type Of Pronouns, Attempt at Humor, Bad Decisions, Bad Humor, Coming of Age, Cussing, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kinda Smart But Also Not Really Since You Can't Even Pass Home Economics, M/M, Pining, Reader Is A Top No Matter The Situation And I Don't Care, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, There's So Many Characters But Best Believe That You Will Fuck Everyone, You're An Asshole Kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kydcorez/pseuds/kydcorez
Summary: Easy people manage just fine through the troubles of life and you've got your legs wide open.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader, Amanai Kanoka/Reader, Aone Takanobu/Reader, Azumane Asahi/Reader, Bobata Kazuma/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Daishou Suguru/Reader, Ennoshita Chikara/Reader, Futakuchi Kenji/Reader, Goshiki Tsutomu/Reader, Haiba Lev/Reader, Hanamaki Takahiro/Reader, Hinata Shouyou/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Koganegawa Kanji/Reader, Komori Motoya/Reader, Kozume Kenma/Reader, Kuguri Naoyasu/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Misaki Hana/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Nametsu Mai/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Numai Kazuma/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Oohira Reon/Reader, Sakishima Isumi/Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader, Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Semi Eita/Reader, Shimizu Kiyoko/Reader, Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader, Tanaka Ryuunosuke/Reader, Tendou Satori/Reader, Terushima Yuuji/Reader, Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader, Yachi Hitoka/Reader, Yaku Morisuke/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader, Yamamoto Taketora/Reader
Comments: 37
Kudos: 222





	1. DOUBLE A-CUP TITS

Getting straight to the point, you're a whore. Not in like the bad sense.

At least that's what the majority of the student body at Date Tech think of you and your promiscuous ways. It's not exactly as if it's easy to deny those things either as you've been seen going home with an assortment of students and returning the next day with the stray hickey on your chest or your lips are a bit more swollen than usual. Better than getting lip fillers and then building a multi-million dollar corporation as kids try to suck on bottle caps to look like you.

Whatever, anyways, people think you're really too easy to even exist as a respectable human being. It's fair because horny people don't get rights but you also tower over a predominance of your pupils, most have to get on the tips of their toes to even land a small peck on your chin. But you can't really complain when things have been easy considering how some liken you to an Amazonian and others find your height to be the equivalent of a sexy bear.

You're surprised that you even have friends because, in complete honesty, you thought any kind of chivalry was dead and you celebrated its short time of living. But then again, you live in a world where Kanji Koganegawa exists and is sat right beside you in class.

You thought it would be fun to just fuck a virgin and then carry on your merry way to target the baseball team but it would be fair to assume that he would be clingy just from a one night stand. You've explained to him that you will most likely never have sex with him again and multiple other students have advised from him to avoid you at all costs but he just doesn't listen. He claims he wants to just be your friend, whatever the fuck that means, and that he doesn't even remember ever being with you.

Yeah right. Like anybody can forget a night with you.

It used to be just him trying to capture your attention during class with a dorky smile or wave but now he tries to eat with you at lunch and it just seems mortifying for him to continue on like this. He keeps saying you're his friend to people you try and hit on and makes you lunch every day because he sees you only ever much some leftover candy you scrounged from your bag and drink a carton of strawberry milk. Ugh, he's disgustingly nice for a teenage boy. Should he be calling random people over the internet, "gay", and calling you a slut?

But that's what he likes to do and he jumps on every opportunity especially right after the bell rings for you to go home. He bounces straight out of his chair once hearing the noise and tries to collect all his things, but you're already out of the door and are prepared each day when he tries to pull off this bullshit. You don't need to stop by your locker as blabbers on during lunch while you prepare your escape.

Skipping down the hall, dodging people who cuss as you step on their toes and spit in your general direction for no reason. This is the only way you've managed to shake him after school by using your string cheese legs and high tailing it home where you catfish people on dating apps to get a little extra money on the side. Sugar daddies are unbelievably trustworthy to people they barely even talked to on the internet, but you have no room to really complain about that aspect of your life.

You almost reach the end of the hallway where it leads to a muddled bunch of students that you could easily blend into if you just bend your knees while you walk amongst the munchkins. It's the safe haven, the Nirvana you achieve on a regular basis because he's stupid enough to not recognize the back of your head. But God doesn't like you probably because you don't have that yummy yummy yummy yum which causes you to slam right into a kid's shoulder and get pushed into the gray walls.

"Ah, [L/n]," he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder as you groan. "I thought you were avoiding me there for a second."

It's not often when actually manages to get a hold on you during this time. It's usually when a cringe toad you've met online crashes into you because he thinks that Koganegawa is your boyfriend for some reason. You'd like to think you have good taste but you would also settle for him thinking the blond imbecile is your partner in case you ever get desperate enough to resort to him.

You don't think you'd really be that horny but the wonders of the human mind manage to amaze you when you actually drop your standards. But then again, the blond angry bird that stands in front of you doesn't put any confidence towards your judgment and it's only fair you hear him out for a bit.

Indulging in the fantasy doesn't really hurt anyway and you perch yourself against the wall, waiting for him to start talking. "So anyway, as you know from our conversations that I tried out for the volleyball team ▬▬"

"I'm not going to your stupid game, Koganegawa, tall volleyball dudes don't wanna fuck tall idiots. I'd have a better chance with a glory hole and a line of cocaine."

He jumps forward and closer to you with the dumbest expression you could ever think of, "But we're friends, you have to see me play my first match!"

There he goes again with the friend thing. What the fuck is his deal? All he ever wants if for you to walk him home from practice and maybe give him the stray hug now and then, which you will not give into because you're sure hugging muscular dudes like him is some strange spell that will make you want more. You are so not done for any physical contact unless it involves with it going in the direction of between your legs.

Maybe you just need to let him down gently and the thought feels completely foreign to you. No one ever really stays attached to you for long and that's fair enough since you just spit in their faces if they ever try to approach you. This dude's a little harder to shake off and even if you don't really consider him a friend, you'd feel worse if you never listened to his incessant ramblings and remember everything he's told you.

You begin to walk off, he trails right after you. "Listen, if you were on the girls' volleyball team then yeah because those chicks are hot and scary and all up on me. But you're not and I ▬▬"

"The other team's manager is cute!" he blurts and the confession is just interesting enough for you to stick around. Turning to see him sweating in his uniform by just trying to lure you into his first volleyball game.

"Spill what you know right now."

His hands begin to fail around for a bit as he sputters a bunch of incoherent noises before actually forming a sentence."Uh, so basically I've been hearing from Onagawa that he's seen matches between other school and that this girl is _unbelievably_ pretty but she's not the most friendly ▬▬"

"Cool, what time's your game?" there's a smile the crawls onto your face and you pull out your phone to set a reminder since your pea brain will surely forget the event.

"Huh?"

"What time's the match? If you promise me titties and don't deliver then forget that I ever spoke to you."

He bounces on the toes of feet as he hurries to tell you information and then babbles on about useless trivia that will leave your mind unless someone finds it time to bring it up. You don't really question who exactly they're playing or what's the name of the manager he brings up but you figure he's naive enough to really think you would stay around for the entire game and you trust him enough. What's the most harm that can come from a recent breakaway virgin?

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

The gym smells like sweat. It's not surprising but more like a war flash black for your poor nostrils to your served sentence of physical education in junior high where you could not run two laps without getting soaked in your fluids. You grimace and enter further into the room, seeing that everyone's barely warming up and setting up the place for the game.

Nobody really catches your eye even as you look at the other half of the court and immediately recognize the school as Johzenji. Even as Koganegawa comes jogging up to you once seeing you, you realize who he was speaking of a few days earlier. Your lips pursue together as he greets you and points over to a brunette with badly cut bangs speaking to other players with adorned in a yellow tracksuit. You really should have not wasted your time with this.

"So you offered me a chance to score with Misaki?" the girl from across the court notices you and waves timidly which you return. "I would've stayed in the ballsack if I knew it was gonna be like this."

"You know her?!" he asks and his eyes look like they're gonna pop out of his sockets like some 1930's cartoon that made the basis for the holy grail known as hentai.

"Yeah, I think she showed up to one of my cousin's rager or some shit like that. Brought the pierced dude with her and I thought they were dating and I am so glad she has better taste than _that_."

You nod your head over to another blond dude and you begin to wonder how many badly dyed hair boys exactly play volleyball. Terushima is another boy you didn't have the pleasure of meeting, the best way you could describe him is as a persistent little shit. You don't really want to go into the worst way as that would require an inner monologue that would probably lead into a soliloquy of why children should be banned from public pools if all they're gonna do is take a piss in them. He is one of those children in your eyes, he'd probably take a shit in a plastic pool too.

You just hope he doesn't notice you here, that meeting would lead to a cutting block of all volleyball boys from your daily palette.

"Aren't you pierced?" Koganegawa stares at your bottom lip and you somehow seamlessly forget that you have two metal balls protruding underneath your mouth.

"Yeah, in other places too." the comment isn't meant with any sexual undertones but you glance at him and see his eyebrows furrowed with a frown.

"Gross!"

"We've fucked before, get over it."

He sighs and excuses himself as a brunette calls for him to hurry his ass up so they can do their little circle jerk of having tall guys play a sport. It doesn't really matter, he would leave anyway and you would be forced to sit by yourself in order to watch this irrelevant sport in case some cute person shows up which they usually do. But it's not as if you are dying to see a bunch of sweaty dudes battling it out from keeping a ball touch the floor so you make your way towards the back of the stands where some delinquents like to hang out after school.

Now by saying delinquents, it makes it sound like you're insulting them which you are by like a fraction of your Weenus. Yet, all they really are is just a bunch of people who like wearing homemade leather jackets than the standard assigned cardigan and that they failed AP Japanese Language and Culture with such remarkable pride. Granted you also got a D in Home Economics but you're not exactly the homely type made to pass that class.

You stay perched in the uncomfortable plastic seat as try to wait out the hunger than consciously eat the macaroni and raw egg sandwich that's sloshing around in a ziplock bag somewhere in your backpack. The game happening right in front of your eyes has become some background noise, sometimes seeing Koganegawa flick the ball into the air for someone to slam it down and being cheered on by his teammates. It's nice he's included in something but your lack of attachment for him could make you care less about who's winning and losing.

A whistle is blown and echoed throughout the gym and you take this as your cue to finally blow your money on a vending machine. All of this just seems so pointless now that you actually put your few brain cells to work, you're not gonna fuck Misaki and you're surely not taking a sweaty dude or random student home with you. The thought of Koganegawa pops into your mind but that would be something not even a bad bitch like you could recover from.

Your whore ways have failed you and it's highly likely you could spiral into a depression from how dry your underwear is at the moment.

But maybe candy will cure you of your dry spell because it's such a well-known fact that hot people hang around vending machines during the spare time and you surely are not going insane. It's far enough to just say you've given up already and it's high time that you go home and force feed your sibling the sandwich she gave you once learning of your after school plans. You pull out a few coins from your pockets and managed to scrounge up what you assume would maybe give up some cookies and a shitty flavored condom from the men's restroom.

Down the hall, you catch a couple of players from the opposing school goofing around with each other before deciding it's a few minutes before their bladder gives out on the white and blue patterned tiles. You thought you would continue your journey in solitude as you slip the coins into the slot and select your item, you'd also be dead wrong.

"Didn't think I'd see you here, [L/n]." Terushima runs a hand through his hair as he shoves himself onto the machine and your bag of M&M's drops from their position.

You're about to aggressively thank him for being an idiot until he snatches your snack before you're able to. Ripping open the thin paper packaging and gargling more than half the small chocolates, audibly crunching them between his teeth while they stain his teeth like he just stuck his face into a toilet bowl full of shit. He sticks out the candies to you and you put out your palm to accept but he frugally offers you only one.

You plop the small circle in your mouth and wait for it to dissolve as you press it against the roof of your mouth. "And I hoped I wouldn't have to see you for a millennium."

"Sucks for you that I don't know what that word even means."

Terushima is a fucking idiot for anyone's information and you don't really know what anyone would even do with that bit of information. He reminds you too much of your kid sister and even though you wouldn't say anything to her face, you cannot deny that she as well is the dumbest bitch alive. But the only reason you can probably tolerate her is that you share the same DNA and are told to shut up unless you want your ass whooped.

"Unless you decided to piss on my feet, I find this conversation to be over."

He shrugs with a smirk and waves as you walk away. Shouting how he hows to see you soon and you hope that he is the last person you have to deal with outside of your home. Pulling your phone out, you use Koganegawa's number more than you thought you would and explain your sudden and unnoticeable absence from the rest of the game in case he even notices.

**doja cat's sugar baby**  
lit rally going to leave luv  
 **doja cat's sugar baby**  
i did not receive any pussy   
OR dick and i feel deceived  
 **doja cat's sugar baby**  
anyways see you at school   
maybe

**stupid ass cringe baby**  
Oh, sorry you didn't have a   
good time.  
 **stupid ass cringe baby**  
We could always go find some   
people another time.  
 **stupid ass cringe baby**  
:) See you on Monday.

**doja cat's sugar baby**  
uuuuggggghhhhh stop   
being nice  
 **doja cat's sugar baby**  
also me going to your game   
does not make us friends

**stupid ass cringe baby**  
Okay! :)

**doja cat's sugar baby**  
UUUGGGGH STOP HIMBO

You push back the device into your pocket, rubbing your eyes to see if you can still put up with people's bullshit today. What the 8 ball known as your mind tells you is that you are not and once you reach home, you will probably go home like a sexless virgin and go on Reddit to scroll through r/inceltears in order to feel better that at least you respect women.

You don't exactly how the way today has gone will convey through Koganegawa's optimistically ill brain but you know it's not the end of his pursuit for this wild goose chase. It doesn't even matter, you've already missed your scheduled daily crying to Big Time Rush time.

Oh well, time to go and Instagram and rant about the troubles of having an obese pussy.


	2. CHIVALRY IS DEAD BUT YOU'RE STILL KINDA CUTE

Your family life is somewhat complicated for a high school student. Not in the way that you're neglected by your parents or your sister is taking meth behind your back and you feel betrayed by the fact that she never offered you any because sharing is caring. It's more in the sense that your 22-year-old cousin, Urano, is your legal guardian and most of her friends are high schoolers.

A few interesting tidbits about Urano is that she introduced you to porn at the ripe age of ten after learning you've already seen the mandated video for sexual education about why your body works the way it does. Maybe that warped your entire perception of sex but that never really mattered as she also takes you out on her online dates so that you can learn from her despite the lingering stares you get from the creepy dudes she likes. She says guys like that have money, but you think any guy that has to go after the younger generation probably thinks age is just a number.

But she's always there to wake you up at the exact same time every day, your personal alarm clock. She stumbles into your shared room, drunk as hell and smelling a bit like piss and vomit, while you check the digital clock on your bedside table and see it's 5:52 in the morning. Nothing too egregious but you hope she has the decency to clean the shower once she settles in with her fluids staining the bath rim.

It's been a while since you've seen her without smudged makeup in the early morning but it's also been a while since you've fucked anyone so you take whatever you can get.

She's only ever a nuisance on weekends where she comes back and you don't even have school the next day. Urano's done it before and she's doing it now. Yet, with a singular brain cell, you wake your sister and put on your wrinkly uniform before checking it's a Saturday. A day that doesn't require any effort unless people force you to go outside.

You tell the small child already heading for the kitchen and she groans while still wandering out the door. She grabs a robe hanging against the doorknob and wraps it around her waist like a small sassy mom which maybe she is a little clone of their mother. You find no reason to really remove yourself from your uniform and you wonder if this is how schoolgirl pornstars feel while walking around on set. But that doesn't really matter now because as Yo Gabba Gabba once said, "I'm gonna eat, yeah."

You close the door as you leave your bedroom and head off to the right, the sky barely starting to turn into a cotton candy color.

There's a small child perched on top of step stool near the kitchen counter, her sausage fingers uncomfortably using a blender. "What's for breakfast, stupid baby?"

Your sister, Asa, likes to cook. She's not good at it but you let her believe that you actually swallow the mush she makes into her mouth. Except for the sandwich she made last week, you think that was supposed to be a premeditated hate crime. What's the crime in question? Your fat ass.

She turns with a pout and you sit at your small circle dining table, "I'm not a baby, I'm seven!"

"When you can tell me how far the sun is from Earth then you will graduate from the baby community. In the meantime, keep smushing bananas and feeding it to the stray dog."

At least, you think that's what the blenders out for. Ever since she found out what the buttons mean with your home desktop computer, she stopped feeding the dog your barbeque leftovers and asked you to bring a variety of fruits from the supermarket. You bring her everything on the list except apple because God, if there even is one, like to shove in your face that you have sensitive teeth that toothpaste recommended by 9 out of 10 dentists can't even fix.

"You can't even tell me that." she pushes something behind, the yellow peel hanging indicates it's a banana. "And Taro likes my snacks, unlike you!"

"Yeah, fair enough. But I'm also stupid so I get a pass."

You hear a beep sounding throughout your apartment, thinking it's your phone but you soon realize that you're just lonely and hearing shit. But the beep sounds again and maybe after all this time of falling asleep with your headphones in, it carries some consequence such as perpetual dinging echoing through your ridiculously small brain. Yet, your sister tells you the computer has been making that noise all morning even when she went to take a piss at 2 in the morning.

You claim you'll be the one to shut the damn thing up despite the fact that you are as inept in technology as an 80-year-old grandmother on a respirator. You move the mouse once you arrive at the cluttered desk and it turns on, revealing an email sent to you from last night. Clicking on it, you're revealed to a message from a complete stranger.

**Mai Nametsu:** Hi, [L/n], I was told by one of our members that you would be interested in being an apprentice for the manager position once I graduate. It would be greatly appreciated if you could stop by the gym on Monday during lunch or after school so I could see if you're a perfect fit! (❁'◡'❁)

**[Y/n] [L/n]:** look, no offense, but i have no idea who you are or which one of your members has brain rot because i would rather have a debate on the ethics of colonialization with cardi b than spend another minute in a gym.

**Mai Nametsu:** ('◔‸◔') Oh, I'm sorry about that, I must have the wrong person! Koganegawa said he has a friend that's a second-year that showed up to the game on Friday and showed interest in the position but couldn't find me.

**[Y/n] [L/n]:** Koganegawa? As in Koganegawa Kanji?

**Mai Nametsu:** My mistake, are you his friend? ԅ⁞ ◑ ₒ ◑ ⁞ᓄ

**[Y/n] [L/n]:** that Motherfucker

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

When Monday comes around, Koganegawa is nearly impossible to find and it doesn't help that you aren't in the same year as him. You even had to turn down some girls looking for a good time during lunch and the little pout they give makes your stomach lurch from the regret you will soon feel once dealing with the blonde idiot. It's almost humiliating, you're chasing after an average boy.

You think that going after a dude like him makes you appear as desperate and that may ruin your reputation as a prestigious whore but Konganegawa is also a nobody. The thought of him doesn't trifle you as much as before where he appeared more of an imminent threat. You ponder where he could be as the two of you usually linger in the hallways of the second year classroom where he bombards you with the usual snack but you remember the messages exchanged yesterday and your eyes widen.

That bastard is fucking around in the gym.

The trip to the large space isn't that long, especially since had visited the week prior. You just hope you can chew him out of your life before he sticks by your side like a large thorn, that you will come as a set and that will not happen under any circumstances. You will not be reduced to Kanji and [Y/n], you do not crave validation so hard to the point you forget that everyone vies over you and not him.

You enter the space once again although it smells like less like perspiration than the last time. There are the same boys from last time, lined up waiting to start something that is completely unclear to you. Whatever, you came for that little fucking weasel and nothing can get in your way.

"[L/n], you made it!" a girl, who you presume is Mai, blocks your way and you did not fucking think this through at all.

She's shorter than you by a lot but you crack under the way her eyes sparkle under the poorly constructed fluorescent lights and her brunette hair shining as if she can actually wash it more than two times a week without it looking like a fucking trainwreck. God so help you, you are about to simp for a girl you've barely met and you know some bullshit is gonna come out of your mouth if you can even pry your lips open. Her mouth moves but you don't catch any of the words she's saying but rather wondering if she'd be weirded out by asking to make out in a storage closet.

The horny is affecting your brain and you cannot stop the spread.

"Yeah, totally," shit, she's too cute to reject. "I just have to talk to Koganegawa. He has some things to clear up."

The brunette nods and calls out the boy in question, waving him over as soon she catches his attention. The others begin to do a series of drills but a brunette you sort of recognize allows for him to speak to you and Mai soon leaves after saying she has some things to attend to with the coach. As soon as the gangly boy reaches you, you tug and his ear and drag him outside while he loudly protests the form of cruel and rightly deserved punishment.

"You can't tell cute girls that I want to do shit with them." the words spit out in a flurry as soon as you shut the gym door and shove him up against the wall. "This betrayal is the equivalent to liking the Minions movie over the original Despicable Me. You can't like a series of spin-offs without holding the original content on a higher pedestal."

Okay, maybe that sentence was off-topic to your argument but Konganegawa doesn't look like any debate team captain. He kinda just nods, a sheepish grin following along to your erratic movements because moving around seems to capture his attention while you speak. You assume that the stupid bird boy thinks he has you figured out but those who try to delve into the labyrinth of your mind, usually come out just as moronic and raunchy as you are. Cheers to all the cokewhores out there.

"Yeah, but my favorite Fast and the Furious movie is Tokyo Drift." you shush him by shoving a finger onto his lips, forcing him to stop the blasphemy to Vin Diesel.

"This is why you were a virgin until you met me."

He groans, slapping both hands on his face and his skin drags under the pressure of his fingers. "But I'm not anymore! Stop virgin shaming me!"

"I'm sorry having sex didn't make you cooler! Did you want me to suck your dick right here?"

You don't really know why you came over here in the first place. The thought seems to have slipped your mind as you now find yourself the new manager in training at Date Tech and have offered to publically suck a dude's dick to prove a point. You usually don't think things through and if you somehow have a file cabinet in your mind of your dumbest moments, this would be stuffed somewhere in there.

You raise your balled-up fist and softly lower it onto his shoulder, fingers softly splayed out. "Fuck it, see you tomorrow."

"So you're sticking around?"

Are you? The question has some hidden depth that you can't bother to really dig through. Like do you really want to take responsibilities in order to have the chance to fuck some really weird and dumbass volleyball players? There's more risk than guaranteed reward that comes into this situation but Mai's face pops into your mind and you'd feel bad if she's waited so long just for a chance to see your face. A chance for others that you cannot deprive anyone else.

"Yeah, the big ass dick in my conscience could use a good stroke now and then." you adjust your low hanging backpack and enter the gym.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

When you arrive home, it's dark and maybe a little bit scarier than you imagined it to be. The roads are barely lit and you get the odd stare now and again from drunken homeless people and middle-aged men that appear to be returning home from their jobs. You don't like walking home at night, especially when it comes to your uniform, something about it is almost sinister. Even when you know the world revolves around you, sometimes you wish that edge was taken off for a second to promise your safety.

But your afterschool activities usually consist of picking your sister up from school or finding a random person to take into an unused room before she can call Urano and claim you've abandoned her for the crows. Today was different and it's likely your cousin got mad at you for springing this on her so suddenly as now she had to cut her partying short and actually take care of two children as she promised. It's not like she'll actually feed Asa, the poor girl will probably try to perfect her cinnamon hamburger helper recipe.

Yet, you're home now and when you unlock your door, it's a surprise who's there to greet you. "You're home early."

The way the words come out sound sort of cynical as if you expected her to not be on that couch and your little sister is still waiting on that green bench back at her school and not under Urano's arm. It's been so long that you actually had a conversation with her that you can't even figure out how to function in front of her. Nothing scares you, but your cousin is a different story.

She doesn't respond and maybe even a sentence with three words was too complicated for her alcohol-driven brain to figure out.

"Manager of the volleyball team, didn't eat and don't care, going into the room."

She shrugs and waves you off all while changing the channel to the bachelorette which Urano claims she'd be the perfect fit for if her feet weren't so large. She likes to say this because she can't get up off her fat ass to do anything worthwhile. "Fine, just don't blame me when Asa tries to come and feed you with barely cooked canned ravioli."

"I know how to work the stove!"

When you finally reach your bedroom, you slam the door and hope that's a clear sign for them to shut up. You cannot be fucking deal with any more idiocy today so you resign to the desk in the small corner of your room. Decorated with Asa's projects and some jewelry that Urano made for you over the years, the pathetic clinging of past memories is enough to make anyone who's overly sentimental cry. You're so fucking sick of sentimentality.

Would bawling into your sheets dramatically make you feel any better? Not really, you make it a pointed that you don't ever cry especially when you put eyeliner on and look like a fucking emo wreck that's still torn up over the fact My Chemical Romance broke up nearly seven years ago when you were like nine and still liked to watch Spongebob Squarepants. This sudden swing of emotions is irrational, nothing today should've irritated to the point where a breakdown in the bathroom appears imminent.

You want to desperately be evil monkey so that there's no one alive.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"You know how the point system works, right?"

"Uh ▬▬"

"It's fine, I'll teach you!"

Mai thought that teaching you the basics during a game would somehow be beneficial to your training. In all honesty, volleyball was kinda a worthless sport to you that you could never really understand all the hype around it. You'd rather be the manager of the tennis team which does have a majority of girls in skirts and snobby guys, but just being allowed to actually participate in after school activities with Urano obnoxiously hitting up your phone is a blessing in itself.

She's awfully lenient for tolerating your lack of knowledge when she teases other members for being morons. And she starts explaining the different positions and how they work with connecting the player's names to their numbers. It's still a little bit of a blur, especially when during previous practices people how they ask for feedback on the way they set the ball or how their spikes looked from a different perspective.

The break soon comes up and the boys are scattered around, no one really bothering you that you figure it's pretty much okay for you to take a passing grade piss. But your phone buzzes against your fat ass and you pull it out before you're able to make it to the bathroom.

**my cinnamon apple**  
help !!! pls help me i have   
no idea what im doing

**normani's sad simp twink**  
what high-tier lesbian lured u into   
her trap? what did u agree to do?

**my cinnamon apple**  
im the manager of a vball   
team !! :(( she was so pretty   
and i was made to be a fool

**normani's sad simp twink**  
omg same hat boo !! i was   
tricked by a long ass   
asparagus blond bitch  
 **normani's sad simp twink**  
but like the manager tells me   
everything and doesn't yell at   
me ,, i always knew there was   
something special about me

**my cinnamon apple**  
okay but im going to tokyo   
like what am i supposed to do?

**normani's sad simp twink**  
like with the manager? idk   
smooch her or sumthin

**my cinnamon apple**  
no !!!!!!! with the vball team  
and the manager  
 **my cinnamon apple**  
:o u should come with me !  
 **my cinnamon apple**  
i barely see you anymore and this   
could improve ur managerial skills

**normani's sad simp twink**  
that doesn't even sound   
like a real fucking word   
yachi ,, i was a manager   
by force  
 **normani's sad simp twink**  
read my statements back to   
the court bitch

**my cinnamon apple**  
pls pls pls pls pls pls  
 **my cinnamon apple**  
i'll even convince kiyoko and   
the coach for u to tag along  
 **my cinnamon apple**  
im gonna lose it if these boys   
have anymore unresolved tension   
or fighting

**normani's sad simp twink**  
there's fighting and unresolved   
tension ?? why didn't u just lead   
with that  
 **normani's sad simp twink**  
k just been convinced ,,   
make it official or whateva

**my cinnamon apple**  
thank god ,, i'll call u later   
and see what i can do  
 **my cinnamon apple**  
just like don't bother people   
if u go with us

**normani's sad simp twink**  
damn and i was just about   
to offer u the prestigious   
token of one kiss with me

**my cinnamon apple**  
u probably have lyme disease

**normani's sad simp twink**  
no comment luv

You pocket your phone when hearing your name called, seeing another unbelievably tall guy asking for you to refill his water bottle. You sigh, not sure what his name is and try to avoid any attempt to bring up the most defining feature to his person. Then you're reminded of your bladder that's seconds away from breaking free like Troy and Gabriella, this job is so demanding. You do not have the mental capacity for responsibility and recollecting people's names.

You can only help that the dudes with Yachi are far easier to remember.


	3. COOTIES TELL THE TRUTH

When Yachi finally admits that you have been approved to accompany her team, she confesses to having fibbed a bit about your relationship. You can only ponder what a cute girl lies about in order for you to join a rambunctious volleyball team in the middle of the night at the rendevous point of Karasuno High School. Maybe she said that you're dating her mom and want to be a chaperone because god is she as beautiful as she is neglectful to her child's achievements. Yet, that's also weird since your above average height does not account for the fact that you talk like you're the personification of a Dorian Electra album.

You don't really know where you're going with that but you know you look fucking good and that's what will get through anything. Being dropped as a baby may give the invincibility towards any form of criticism.

Karasuno, from what you've been told by Futakuchi, is a group of losers grasping at strings to try and make it to Nationals when they couldn't even beat Aoba Johsai. You've never heard of these schools since before meeting your small blonde bitch and the problematic captain to the team you're co-managing but what you have heard of is that boys who play sports have great asses and you are not going to miss out on that activity.

Your cousin isn't even as big of a cock block that you first thought of her to be, it appears that summers to her are meant for Urano to get her brains fucked right out her skull while Asa stays home and tries to convince you that she absolutely did _not_ , under any circumstances, let the stray dog inside your home. The dog hairs sticking to your favorite pair of camo cargo pants would beg to differ. In pink camo pants, anybody would feel blessed enough to take out the world or round kick a small child into oblivion but waking up an hour before you're supposed to meet with Yachi is not what these pants were made for.

Although you would not have agreed to this activity if she included the major detail that you would be leaving in the middle of the night to take a bus to Tokyo. You would rather spend the remainder of your days lying in your bed and thinking about Nicki Minaj joining the adventures and telling Thanos she's going for a swim. But life doesn't give you everything you want straight into the palm of your hand and you are automatically forced by Jesus herself, the only friend you have, to stay on track with your commitments.

Especially as she's barking your ear off about how grateful she is that you didn't leave her for the crows, you thought that the saying had something to do with dogs but you're not too great when it comes to English idioms. Plus Yachi can't die, she's your ride or die and if she's buried six feet under then you have to get hit by a car which isn't impossibly hard. You can't even count on your fingers the number of times you have been bumped into by cars which would be eleven but like it's not your fault when cars wanna turn the corner and then nearly commit vehicular manslaughter.

But she's probably tired of you, especially as you try to imitate that one video of Lindsay Lohan dancing in a car park even when saying that you're coming close to your destination. You need to do something in order for you to keep up with everything going on and trying to clutch on whatever pops in your head at the moment. While you're trying your best to dance like a white woman recovering from her drug addiction, you think to what you packed in your bag, from what you can remember, it's basically half your closet and shoved onto one side while the other contains multiple cans of Redbull that you feel won't last throughout the week.

"Please don't embarrass me." she pleads behind the bus and you slouch in order to feel that you and she are on the same level in terms of height and intellect.

"As long as the boys here are ugly then we shouldn't have a problem."

She looks panicked and starts to sweat, maybe the night makes her humid and ends up warm up but you cringe. If there's one human fluid you can't stand apart from runny snot and tears, it's sweat and all the weird things it does to your body. You make it a point to avoid ruining your clothes by dumping them in perspiration and it's probably the main reason why you quit playing baseball after being seen in junior high as a hotshot rookie. The bottom line, you don't like sweat and maybe becoming the apprentice manager for your school while accompanying Yachi on a trip so boys can play volleyball was a decision you made without any prior thought.

She pulls you out from the corner and tries to plaster a smile onto her features, you never realized how anxious she was in front of people but you also haven't seen her your winter break. When you actually take a look around, there are so many boys that you don't really know what to do with yourself. She keeps tugging on your wrist while you admire them, so much eye candy that you feel kinda fuzzy when one of them makes eye contact with you, and her insistent pulling is becoming annoying to the point where you reluctantly move along with her to meet a man.

"Oh, Yachi, is this your guest?" she nods at the dude vigorously while you stand beside her, a hand resting on your shoulder and, wow, you're taller than nearly everyone. "How do you two know each other again?"

"We're step-siblings!" she shouts with such urgency that you jolt awake.

Step-siblings? God, you hope this isn't some weird roleplay she wants you to join in on. Yachi maybe your type but you did not peg her to be a Freak.

But she looks up at you and you audibly let out a sound of realization that this was her lie. "Yeah, step-siblings. That's what we totally are and her ▬▬ I mean, _our_ mom asked me to look after her."

The older blond dude measures you up before shrugging and presumes you aren't a threat to the safety of these boys. You're not a safety hazard but a hazard to their dicks, the latter portion of your statement has yet to be determined.

Watching as the boys load onto the bus while Yachi admits she wishes to sit next to the pretty lady manager, you catch a glimpse of her softly speaking to the blonde before going inside. And yeah, you can appreciate how your only friend would ditch you on a bus ride to sit with _her_. It's just going to be weird, even with your charisma, boys scare you and you're sure they scare a lot of other people too. The ones you've met so far are nice but you're convinced that they're all robots and you're just living in a simulation where they actual sex machines and they've all come to life with the power of Black Magic by Little Mix.

But once you get on the bus, it's a lot of boys giving you passing glances especially since you have to crouch in order to fit your freakish Mothman body inside and have to push past till you reach the back where the only free seat lies. You hover over a boy with green hair and freckles that doesn't make eye contact with you even as your stare down at him and the extra seat right beside him. It's either he doesn't notice you which is probably the worst guess you've ever made since you're looming over him like a fucking giant or he's ignoring your presence for whatever reason. 

"Is this seat taken?" you know it isn't but maybe you'll come off as friendly if you ask first and if he rejects you then he can feel like the asshole because there are no other seats on this stupid ass vehicle.

His eyes flicker up to you and you swear you can see something close to an anxious smile and mumbles out what you think is a "no". Maybe you scare him and despite boys not being your favorite thing on this earth, you can separate them into different categories based on first impressions.

Your short kings will do the most to grab your attention and will admit to wanting to climb you like a tree despite the fact that you have the strong urge to go into a squat just so you can look straight into their eyes. Then there are the ones who are of average height but shorter than you, they're typically scared that your long-ass arms will smack them in the face and their nose will proceed to bleed. You also have dudes who are taller than you and they freak you out more than anything, they look at you like you're the pipsqueak and not the dude who's 5'7 and has to look up at them.

Either way, you've taken a boy from each category home by now. Your teen years have a body count and it will continue even if you have the fear that someone will choke you out like that one picture of Harry Styles promotional picture for his new album that says "You Whore".

The corners of your mouth quirk up, "Oh, good, it has a mind of its own."

He doesn't answer and you exhaustedly shrug, flopping onto the firm seat with a frown. God, these people are boring and you don't know what you're even gonna do for the next few hours. 

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"We stunting on these hos."

Yachi groans as you come out of the bus with puckered lips and throwing around peace signs, no one is really paying attention to you and it's for the best. You've downed at least two of your Redbulls during that ride and while the taste of caffeine makes you want to stroke out in your seat, the psychoactive drug seems to just seep into your bloodstream and makes the urge to act up all the more prevalent.

"This is what I meant by don't embarrass me." she pipes up and tries to assuage you by slowly putting down your arms. "You think you could calm down and at least be responsible?"

"You expect me to be responsible? Even that's a little too much for me, we'll stick to the attempt of not fucking anyone."

"Please don't do that, please. I beg of you."

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

When Futakuchi told you that Karasuno was a big band of losers, you didn't really think that they were and maybe they were just a bit inexperienced compared to other teams which Yachi explained as those who have made it to Nationals before. You thought volleyball was simple, receive a ball and toss it up so another dude can hit it. But everything sounds so complicated when you attach names to things and do a lot of flashy shit that just doesn't work out well.

This happens a lot during the first match. It doesn't appear that Fukurodani, a new school you have never heard of before, wins based on skill but rather they win based on the fact that the members of Karasuno fuck up a lot. And you gather water with Yachi as they are taking their loss with an uphill run because this school is built right next to a forest for whatever reason.

And this happens for the rest of the day because losing once and making you do actually work wasn't enough. It's not hard work per se but more just filling up water bottles and handing them out while bothering Yachi if she's ever gonna make a move on the remarkably attractive manager they have been blessed with. Her presence simply makes you want to switch schools, but that would mean waking up earlier than you already do and you're sure that Urano refuses to come home before 5:52.

But it's fine as the matches seem to take away any boredom you feel as the sun slowly sets into a peaceful night where the boys rest against the grass from exhaustion. They talk of getting up to other activities such as analyzing games or practicing a bit more and you're surprised they have this much energy since Asa has to get a frying pan and a wooden spoon to get you up during summer break. You don't focus all too much on it as Kiyoko soon asks for you to mop up any sweat off the floor which you cringe at, but it's so hard to really do anything about it since pussy holds all the power.

"Ah, Tsukki. I'm gonna hit some serves. Would you ▬▬"

"I'm gonna take a bath and go to bed."

You walk further down the court, out of reach from the dismissing conversation. You'd rather mop up your least favorite thing than receive second-hand embarrassment, an emotion you rarely indulge in, by listening to two dudes who want to do entirely different things. You think of offering your help just by being there for moral support and trying to slyly get to know someone under Yachi's nose, things that any normal person would do, but you also just feel like drinking Redbull and watching porn for the hell of it. However, you find yourself done quicker than you intended to and Kiyoko takes the mop from your hand and excuses any duties you previously held.

You are not really interested in whatever backstory they have, maybe your attention is a bit directed towards what's under their shorts but you figure that helping out the kid will provide an ego boost you desperately need. You're fulfilling your good person deed of the week.

"Hey, I could help you out." you're louder than you'd like to be and the anxious smile from last night returns to his features once he turns to face you, it's the boy from the bus. "I'm kinda new to the whole volleyball thing but anything for thou."

He almost appears conflicted about your offer. Sure, you might have ulterior methods but you could get the same end result from your fingers and Brazzers. He doesn't know that though and who knows? Maybe you'll ease him into thought at the end of the week and this eternal drought of your genitals will finally be over with.

He reluctantly nods and walks with you towards the crate, "Thanks, I'm Yamaguchi."

"[L/n]," you inform him and toss a ball behind your back. "I think we're gonna get along just fine."

Unfortunately, maybe a bit too fine.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

When you usually go to sleep, you sleep solely in a t-shirt from middle school that now fits like a crop top and a pair of tight underwear. The same applies even in front of strangers you have barely met and maybe are also a bit too scared to tell you to put some damn pants on. Even if they did give you shit, you can't wear anything other than casual clothes which you refuse to do because it messes up your whole moral code about what clothes should be worn and the exact time and place when you can do so.

But it doesn't matter because you find it impossible to fall asleep in unfamiliar surroundings and may have drunk too much water for your liking. The urge to just get up and wander around to find the bathroom is strong since you'd feel like a nuisance but in a hot way whatever that really even means. So you arise from your sleeping bag with as little noise as possible and try to sneak your way out. God, this is way more difficult than you pegged it to be.

You've been awake for so long that your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, but your mind makes everything to be a blurry haze. A series of memories you will probably think of as a realistic dream once you wake up tomorrow. Scratching your bare ass as you move down the halls like a ghoul that this school just looks like a whole ass maze right near a forest that going to the bathroom takes up more of your brain cells than thinking about going to the bathroom.

You turn something close to your seventh corner and you're met with the door to a bathroom. Finally, you can a good ass whizz and pass out.

Yet, as soon as you move your gaze down the hall, you're met with a lone figure standing at the other end and covered with fragments of moonlight. In a daze, you tilt your head to the left, the direction of the bathroom, as if that will even help you figure out who you are. You don't really care at this point as it's probably another volleyball boy that you cannot wrangle under your grasp and you enter inside the bathroom. Fuck, even the toilets here are confusing.

You take a few steps and peer around the dimly lit place to find the stalls instead of resorting to pissing in the sink like a cat. Turning on the lights would hurt your eyes too much but you also are not in the state where you can make rational decisions and you turn to go flick the light switch. Instead, you're met with who you presume is the dude from the hallway. He's nervous and constantly rubbing his hands and your eyes flicker back up to his shadow face.

You move towards his direction. Maybe you don't need to wait all week.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

You sit in front of Yachi during breakfast, "So I fucked someone."

"That was our one rule!"

The blonde in front of you expects a lot, especially something about integrity too even though words that above two syllables are often lost upon you. You practiced sight words in kindergarten but that was to say simple things and finally understand why your cousin kept making baby noise at you until you turned like ten.

"Yeah, but I had to take a piss and then I saw someone and I think they followed me into the bathroom ▬▬ the rest is kinda blurry, but I remember pissing and then going back to sleep."

"Did," she pauses and your heart erratically thumps. "did you pee on them?"

The sound you let out at the question is something that can only be described as loud and inhumane, Yachi slaps a hand on your mouth as the others at the table give you strange stares and she can only let out an awkward giggle towards the weird position you're in.

But the main question needs to be answered. In your moments of fatigue, did you pee on someone? Your body shudders in disgust at the thought because of the thought that your sacred piss on another human being upsets to the core. You're not into that, at least you don't think you are, but you'd rather experiment weird kinks when you can actually remember what the fuck even happens.

"I-I don't think so."

Before you can really delve into repressed memories so Yachi can cosplay as the Long Island Psychic, Kiyoko strolls up to the two of you and asks if you can set up nets and baskets before the matches begin. You trudge along while your blonde little disciple can do her short person thing of trying to drag you to hurry up so the star manager doesn't have to do any work.

"Uh, [L/n]!" oh, it's the dude you helped yesterday, you think is name is Yamaguchi or something. You've never really made contact with him except by tossing him a ball or sitting next to him on the bus. "Um, well, I don't really know how to put ▬▬"

"Spit it out already."

He gently grabs your wrist and puts a balled-up piece of cloth in it. "Are these yours?"

Unaware, you unravel the thing to his dismay and see it's a pair of underwear. Actually it's your underwear and you quickly conceal it into your pocket. So he was your mystery man, maybe you'd enjoy this revelation if you could actually remember if he was actually decent at fucking.

"That explains why I went to bed naked." he flushes when you comment on the position you found yourself in this morning and you wonder how you ever coerced him into doing it with you without imploding. "Uh, thanks, man."

"You were good if you were wondering." he blurts out and your lips purse together in a thin line.

It's a normal phrase guys say after it happens, it's like they think your world revolves around their approval. Boys are as disposable as garbage and you won't have him think that his opinion has any weight about your borderline narcissism. God, Lana Rhodes could've been a better use of your time.

"Hey, bumping uglies is one of my main skills so I'll appreciate you being my main reference when applying for the local pimp." he brings his hands in front of him and begins to fiddle with them.

Oh god, you're starting to sweat.


	4. HO, YOU ON SIMP SHIT

It comes to no surprise that Yamaguchi does his best to avoid you after he’s revealed that you two have reached that level of intimacy as strangers, but sex is just sex to you. It’s almost like he’s embarrassed for you as well and maybe he somehow thinks you’re a virgin despite saying to him that fucking people are high up on your resume of being a whore. It's fine, you weren't really planning on making any friends along the way and Yachi's the only person that's interesting to you.

The day is the same as before where you sit on the sidelines with Yachi and find spare paper to do that fortune teller thing and refill water bottles when the boys lose. So far, you've learned that Yachi's only career possibilities are garbage disposal, boys' bathroom cleaning supplies, and Britney Spears. She has a bright future ahead of her.

But it's not long before one of the managers ask for you and the small girl to go to the kitchen and retrieve a snack for the volleyball players. You honestly think they should starve until dinner because you had to sit through their boring matches and your suffering should be accounted for insurance purposes. You reluctantly agree as Yachi explains that the managers receive whatever’s left behind and who knows, maybe the one that looks exhausted all the time has a stash of Horny Goat Weed.

You take off your jacket before you exit the gym, finding it's way too warm outside to trap any body heat inside some fabric. Generally, you don't really pay attention when you walk and it's not like you're one of those kids that focuses on their phone while you wander around but you like to focus on everything other than where you're going. But that's where Yachi comes in and likes to hold your hand as she drags you around, though she's not exactly a full proof plan of avoiding objects colliding into you.

Something bumps into your waist you move to reveal a small auburn-haired boy, your eyes widening as you fully take in his form. ”Oh my god, how are you not already arrested for being a midget?”

”[Y/n], you can’t say things like that!” Yachi tries to shake your shoulders but her hands can only reach up to your collar bone.

”Midget is like one of the laziest slurs, they weren’t oppressed unless you count Willy Wonka.”

Is midget even a slur? In your opinion, maybe they should all be rounded up and forced to work for an insane dude so they can sell chocolate. Actually, those greedy ass Oompa Loompas has it good while they were dancing and singing to kids dying.

”Would you mind not talking as if I’m not here?” he speaks and even though he's taller than Yachi, you wonder how all his organs just don't collapse from being so compressed in his tiny body.

"Okay, midget."

The blond slaps your collar bone once again, "Stop calling him a midget!"

"Well, I don't even know his name!”

The hit from the smaller girl hurt more than the last time she did it and you massage your chest as if you’ve been brought great pain. The boy in front of you kinda just looks tired of the both of you and maybe also wishes to kick your teeth out, but his baby arms could reach anywhere near your face. He crosses his arms and gives you a smug once over, and the thought of crushing him underneath your foot becomes extremely prominent.

"It's Yaku,"

He keeps his sassy little pose and you have to remind yourself that Baddie B Barbie Tingz would not stoop to violence unless it’s to cut a bitch. “Thank you for the formal introduction, _Yaku_."

”What’s going on here?”

Another figure emerges from the gym and it’s starting to get ridiculous that all these dudes have wack ass hairstyles. Like how the fuck can he see under his scene kid hair? Can he even see Yachi or she cut in half by the frightening shape of his band? Does normal science even apply here?

”Nothing!” the blonde speaks for you and then turns to Yaku. “Uh, we’re sorry for calling you a midget by the way!”

You groan, she didn’t have to say anything but she’s unusually honest to her disadvantage. Today is a loss for the Goofy Goobers.

The new boy looks you directly in the eyes, "You stand there and say our libero is a midget so maybe we should put Yaku in his place."

Maybe you like starting shit and backpedaling on your statements immediately after you do so. You finally know what it means to do a youtube apology. "No, I never said that."

"Yes, you most certainly did."

"No, I didn't, dingbat! Listen, I said ▬▬" you start to move closer to him and shove a finger into his cheek accusingly.

"Get your finger out of my face!"

Yachi is on the sidelines snickering and your eyes flicker over to her, the feeling of your eyes on her promptly ceases any noise. Wait, why were you getting into pointless beef with a dude whos an inch taller than you? You can't really remember the past few minutes except leaving the gym. Shit, your brain becoming pointless.

You back away from the dude and grab Yachi's hand, dragging her away as you yell back at them. “You’re going to jail, you’re all going to jail.”

The two teammates stand there, confusion draining any other emotion out of their bodies. They've seen you around Karasuno but you were always just kinda quiet and looked bored half the time. You don't pique their interest but you just confuse them like a homeless person that waits in front of a restaurant without asking for money.

”Who is that weirdo?”

Yaku groans as Kuroo walks by his side, ”Don’t get me started,”

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"Did you ever play sports, [L/n]?" Kiyoko asks while you make a new fortune teller thing, the older girl trying to prepare for a midday snack.

You tried to help them the previous night but one of the managers laid you off as you soon realized that you have no cooking skills at all. You almost cut off your finger trying to slice some watermelon when they gave you a second chance and you also have to check your memory whether you’ve actually made something edible with your own hands. From what you can remember, you once made a ham sandwich for your mom but that was a long time ago.

"Oh, yeah! I played baseball in junior high but I thought it'd be easier if I just laid back during high school and did _other_ _things_."

"Hmm, that's sounds interesting. I used to be on the track team during middle school as well."

Kiyoko doesn't usually talk, at least that's what you heard from eavesdropping on conversations of those two weird players that are a bit hornier than you are. Which you have to applaud because being that turned on over a girl who has rejected you countless times takes a lot of commitment which you don't have. But the older girl talks to you and the other managers, you figure she's just being polite but she wouldn't start a conversation if she didn't want to.

"It explains the legs." she turns to you with a blank expression and you find that your running mouth actually can carry consequences.

You've never really thought about her body in that way before. Your eyes just flickered down to her calves and it was a passing thought you blurred out. You wonder that even as three years have passed if they're still muscular.

”Sorry, that was creepy. Just mean that you’re in great shape or whatever.”

"Thank you, [L/n]." she hands you a plate of watermelon to pass out before grabbing her own. "You have a nice body too."

Your body temperature rises as soon as the words process through your mind and you're stuck against the metal counter, paralyzed that such a pretty girl actually complimented you. If you had to be a sub for her to even compliment you, your new name would be Simp Mcgee. You feel something wet against your stomach and look down, frowning as watermelon stains your ragged shirt.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"You going to apologize for earlier?" another boy walks up to you just as you offered a slice of fruit to the pretty dude that attends Fukurodani.

He's a bit taller than you, wearing a black shirt and stupid hairstyle you would normally bully someone for having but you feel that he takes his bad decisions in stride. He looks familiar but you can't really place your finger on it but everyone looks familiar in your mind.

"Do I know you?"

His grin drops and he's seriously contemplating if you're playing dumb or actually this stupid. "I'm Kuroo, you called one of my teammates a midget."

"Oh yeah!" the memories flood back and a toothed simper returns to your features. "Nah, I don't really feel like it."

You turn as someone taps your shoulder and aks to see if you have any more watermelon which they promptly pluck off the tray. Your job is done and the conversation with the scene kid is done as well, maybe someone else needs you to do a menial task. But he doesn't think like you and you're glad by that because you would have to kill anyone who wanted to be like you.

He walks right by your side, hovering over you while you slouch and trying to the stain on your stomach. "So you're fine with just being rude to such handsome gentlemen?"

"I see a bunch of hormonal boys who don't know what to do with themselves, you're flattering yourself too much."

Yeah, you're kind of an asshole, but who isn't nowadays? Boys are vile, girls talk shit behind other people's back, and you just sit right along with that line. Your personality is made up by the fact that you're looks are above average and that no one cares what you say as long as they get their way with you.

"What do you want me to do?" he keeps following you down to the kitchen and it's getting a bit too weird for your taste. "Give you a handjob as a way to say sorry?"

"And what a wonderful way that would be."

He probably thinks you're joking and to be fair, you pretty much are fucking with him. He doesn't look fazed but you really just want him to leave you alone. You're not going to apologize for calling Yaku a midget because you spoke the truth and isn't that what OJ Simpson wanted for all of us? Actually, that might be wrong.

"You and your high waisted hips do not deserve a handjob from me, period." you draw an imaginary line with your fingers, trying not to drop the tray, and you stop walking. "Oh my god, wait, I felt powerful saying that."

You now have a new vocabulary word added into your vernacular and Kuroo is just as confused as you left him during your last encounter.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

You don't really know how you ended up in the gym once again after dinner. There was a pretty boy who assuaged you to block some spikes because you're tall and now you stand next to a blond due who think is from Karasuno while another dude who is way too energetic tries to explain what exactly blocking entails. The sentiment is lost upon you as the dude who tosses the ball tells you that you need to stop the ball from hitting your side of the court. You really wish it was simpler than that.

"Ah, fuck!" your palm is red and stings from the contact of a ball slamming straight into your hand, you collapse onto the gym floor while cradling your hand. "Fuck, what the fuck?!"

The owl looking boy's eyes widen as the ball land on his side of the court and laughs, "Woah, you sure you've never played before?"

"I don't think they'd be in that much pain if they've done this before, Bokuto."

"Shut up!"

You feel like you broke your wrist and judging from the sheer muscle on that dude, he possibly could break your back in whatever way you wanted. But you sit there clutching your wrist until you feel someone hook their hands under your armpits and begin to drag you off the court. Your head turns upward to see the dude from earlier and you wonder if you'll ever escape his general vicinity, you didn't even notice him when you first entered the gym.

But he doesn't talk to you or try and make weird sly comments, he just pulls out some kind of wrap from his pocket and proceeds to cover your wrist with it. Your mind wanders like it usually does when people don't pay attention to you and you suddenly remember Space Jam for whatever reason because the logic of that movie is beyond you.

"Hey," you bark at him and he hums in response, moving your arm to see if you haven't broken anything. "was Space Jam about volleyball or basketball?"

Kuroo has finally obtained the answer to his question, you're actually just stupid and somehow that excuses any weird shit you say.

"Michael Jordan is in that movie."

"And? You didn't answer the question."

He lets go of your hand it flops against your thigh. This is the problem with boys, they can't just answer what sport a movie was based around or who Micheal Jordan even is, you'd be more inclined to like talking to Kuroo if he just told you what you want to know and not whoever the fuck got cast in the Space Jam movie. That movie is ancient and you believe anything before the year 2000 is archaic.

He sighs and helps you onto your feet, "Y'know, you'd be pretty cute if you didn't run your mouth."

"Y'know, I'd actually jerk you off if you didn't look like you." he lets you fall on your ass again and you glare at the little smirk growing at the corners of his mouth. "You look like you belong in a Panic at the Disco music video."

"But the possibility is still there?" your eyebrows raise in towards his unsettling statement, you're unable to do just one no matter how much you practice. "Not for the Panic music video."

You think you could be okay with everything he just pinned back his bangs that were cut by a five-year-old with crazy scissors. Maybe it's a bit much to already go through another dude on your second day here when you're supposed to be here for a week, but he opportunity is offered to you. It's different because you'll actually remember this despite the fact that handjobs are just having another person do the masturbating for you.

"If you have the time," he helps you onto your feet this time and whispers for you to follow him.

You exit the gym but not before catching the eye of Yaku, he narrows his eyes in suspicion.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"Gave someone a handy in a supply closet." Yachi looks equal parts disappointed and like she should've seen this coming. "I'm sorry."

"Are you really?"

"No, but I thought it would make you feel better. At least it wasn't with someone from your school."

"You had sex with someone from Karasuno?!" it looks like her soul leaves her body and you have to keep her from fainting by grabbing at her waist.

"Not so loud, stupid!"

You must've forgotten to even mention the incident with Yamaguchi but you don't think she wants to know anything more than what you've already admitted to her. You also don't think you should mention that the person you gave a handjob to was the person who you said should go to jail. Yachi's not pure white cloth innocent but you should reserve certain things before she implodes.

Kiyoko walks past the two of you and you have to waddle with Yachi's body, yelling out her name before you ultimately collapse. It takes a few seconds but she rushes to your side and understands that the small blond child might not actually live out her foretold future of being Britney, bitch.

Yet, the second you turn around your met with the deformed cretin. "Jesus Christ, is that a fucking gremlin?"

It's not, it's the midget from earlier but he might as well be one. You hope no one is feeding his bitch ass after midnight.

You start to walk away from him and towards the baths, you did physical exercise and it's starting to make you feel a bit icky. But he tries to keep up with you, jogging before you're ahead of him and jogging once again until you're ahead of him. You're starting to think he's a pervert from the way he keeps following you around without saying anything.

"You did something with our captain, I can feel it." you regret him ever opening his mouth.

You grin and exaggeratedly rub your body, lifting up your shirt a bit too high for a routine interrogation by an Oompa Loompa. "You can also feel me up if you'd like, free of charge!"

He starts to badger, saying stuff about how he looked relaxed after returning to the gym and how he saw you leaving with him before. He feels a lot like how a mom scolds you after finding you naked in their child's bed except he has nothing to go off of saving Kuroo having that post ejaculation high written all over him. You heard that having sex leaves a lingering smell and maybe Yaku is an expert at sniffing it out.

It's not like you did anything wrong, there's no reason to hide that you're a thirsty bitch.

"Look, I do things that I like. I didn't force him to like me holding his dick." you stop by the door to the showers, crouching down to the point where you can look directly into his eyes and it looks like he's gonna pop all the veins on his forehead. "Sex is when two or more people are horny enough ▬▬"

"I know how that works!"

"Good, then we're done here." You make your way inside with a frown, something common on your face recently.

You move towards the sink before undressing, staring at your foggy reflection in the mirror. She always said you looked prettier with a smile on your face, what a load of bullshit.


	5. EVERYTHING I SAY IS HOT, BITCH I SPEAK TOASTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was really fun to right but tanaka exudes himbo energy and i need some of that in my life right now. i am back on that grind of being a whore for fictional men.

Even if you fell asleep on time the day before, you wake up to blinding rays of sun hitting your face. You groan and turn around, wanting to fall back asleep even if it's for a few moments and it's the middle of the day. But you feel something poke at your back and you desperately try to ignore it, even as it gets more persistent with every attempt at avoiding leaving the cozy warmth of your sleeping bag.

"Hey, do you think they're dead?" someone asks and poke your neck this time.

"No, you idiot, they just made a sound. Dead people don't make sounds."

While this riveting conversation of whether dead people are capable of making noise after entering rigor mortise, you don't particularly feel like dealing with idiots. You try to lift yourself up off the floor but it's ultimately useless as you end up falling back onto the pillow. It doesn't seem that they notice your struggle as you can hear them arguing what do to with a dead body they discovered and also trying to push the agenda that you're still alive.

"Shut up." you groan and one of them gasps as you rise into a sitting position like how you imagine a vampire would do so. "I am very much alive, y'all can't distribute the smoke without me."

You push back any hair blocking your vision and look up at the stupid duo that decided to disrupt your all-day sleep session. But you don't recognize the faces that look down at you. There's a dude with a sleepy face offering to help you up while the other one who has a shaved head looks like he's about to start bawling. As you already know, your memory is sub-par and you don't even try to guess their names or who they are.

"Do I know you guys?" you question as the brunette pulls you up to your feet.

Before he's able to answer you, the other one attacks your waist and lifts you above the ground while praising to some god about how he's thankful that you're not dead. You can feel his exaggerated stream of tears staining your shirt and you let out a screech of disgust, why is everyone ruining the shirts you like? He doesn't let go out you even as you try to pull at his hair because he's practically bald and he's just muttering about how grateful he is that he doesn't have to bury you six feet under. Dumbass, as if he doesn't know that your life long dream is to ship your ashes to Kim Petras.

Actually, you should write your last words soon. Maybe your sister will lend you her glitter pens.

It's not until the other boy hits the nape of the dude's neck is when you're graced with your feet finally on the ground, "Yachi wanted us to make sure you were okay. She thought you might've gone to sleep late because you were watching _stuff_.”

It's a bit suspicious in your opinion how they put enunciation on the word, your little Polly Pocket imitator doesn't have a weird and vulgar vocabulary as you do. If anything, she'd probably describe sex as the thing or doing it and you wouldn't blame her, it's not for everyone.

You start to dig through your bag, trying to find pants because today is the moment where you're okay with being musty. There's too much shit going on here and you don't wanna see another dick for like a day, tomorrow is another question for itself.

You shimmy on some sweats and look up at the duo, "Okay, did she say it like that? Cause the girl does not say the word porn."

"Wait, other people can watch porn?" the two of you look at the practically bald boy with narrowed eyes, he asks the question out of genuine confusion.

"Tanaka did you ▬▬" the brunette next to you has to take a deep breath before continuing. "did you think that porn was a thing you created?"

"Uh ▬▬"

You start to walk away, "I hate it here."

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Charli XCX would not take this like the slander of her career after collaborating with Iggy Azalea. So you ask yourself the question, why do you allow it to stain your reputation? Okay, maybe slander is a bit strenuous but you notice some lingering stares from the other managers and players. You don’t really know what to make of them but you like the extra attention.

Anyways, this day had been the same old shit with a side platter of nothing new.

Karasuno just seems to lose all the time while you’re trying to secure the bag with a 40-year-old man you met on Twitter named Hajime. You sometimes think he’s lying about being a software developer but he also pays you fifty bucks a week whenever you send solicited nudes of your cousin so you also don’t complain. The only way you can stand bitches anymore: is if they have cash, they have weed, they want to fuck you, or they make a blunt out of their money before having sex with you.

But everyone’s been so weird since you entered with Himbo #1 and slightly smarter while also being controlled Himbo #2. Are you the Cat in the Hat or the children he keeps fucking traumatizing? You sure hope you aren’t Mike Myers as a furry because while beating children up like a piñata seems like an excellent plus, you also find that trying to impress small little midgets that pick their nose wouldn’t be a religiously freeing experience.

You feel as if this is the doing of the small ass player from Nekoma, you think he was called libero or something. He might be talking shit about you giving handjobs but you also don't care enough to try and confront him. It'd be worse if he was anything like Koganegawa who hasn't really bothered you in a while. Actually, the fact that he hasn't given you any clingy attention concerns you. Is he dead? Does he not want to be your friend anymore? Why does it even matter?

You have Yachi with you anyway, who is trying to keep a tight leash of your uncontrollable libido, and she's trying to get you to understand volleyball so she doesn't feel that taking you on the trip wasn't an entire waste. You've added some people to your body count so you wouldn't say you tagging along wasn't an entire waste but she goaded you into coming with the chance of seeing tension of two dudes, you can't really identify who since everyone seems mad at each other at some point.

At this point, you're so bored that you brought baby blue nail polish with you and have started to paint Yachi's nails while she's talking to Kiyoko about what's happening on the court. You tried to do the same to the older girl but she says she has a habit of biting her nails and doesn't want to slowly poison herself by eating the varnish, you have to admit it kinda looks like frosting. But everything is so boring here and you didn't know that you need to be the entertainment between four schools that you don't even attend.

But you're pleasantly surprised when you look up after some cheering only to find a small pipsqueak yelling at a taller boy about holding something back. A grin grows on your face as the blue-eyed boy takes ahold of his shirt, clenching the white cloth and yellow jersey between his fingers. You feel they won't go any further unless you goad them on.

"Fight, fight!" you yell from the sidelines and a brunette with cropped hair glares at you. "Was I not supposed to say that?"

Yachi stutters out an apology for you and you continue to focus on her poorly painted nails. You wonder when she'll actually notice them and then you have to admit that you don't bring nail polish remover since Urano discovered you huffing it while you were faded in the shower. From the corner of your eye, you notice them trying to separate the pair and you would've whole-heartedly loved to see someone as tiny as him sucker-punch a dude on his team.

It doesn't really matter anyway, they'd be forced to sit down if they were to start any more shit and you figure the little mandarin baby doesn't want that any time soon. You feel like your presence here is pointless, but maybe something else can salvage this.

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"You want me to paint your nails?" Tanaka nods and you shrug, there's no harm in charity work. "Sure, just let me pick a color."

You pull out a gaudy shade of yellow from your pocket and sit him down on the grass in order to try and concentrate. You don't detest his company, he's kinda funny when he's bumbling around like an idiot with his friend and you sometimes enjoy that he takes off his shirt for everyone to see because he's that excited. As far as himbos go, you would take a bullet for him and by bullet, you mean a pebble being thrown at you.

The sun is starting to set behind the transmission towers and the lofty forest right beside you, there's sort of this weird serenity lulling you in a tranquil state of mind. Maybe you're tired but that wouldn't make sense because you slept in until noon and stayed away for like four hours. Or maybe you're tired of all the dick, you probably need 20 milliliters of pussy juice stat.

You almost forget the boy in front of you exists until he speaks, "So you're friends with Kiyoko, right?"

Ah, so that's what this was about. He didn't seem all too adamant about wanting to know if you're actually good at the task because he's probably seen Yachi's nails from the looks of it. "I mean, we talk to each other about simple stuff. You'd have more luck with Yachi if you really wanted to suck on your upperclassman's tits."

He flusters and pulls away from you, some of the paint stains your shoes and you're slightly grateful for him doing that. You're fly, hot, sexy, and beautiful. But do you have the nerve? You had the nerve to wear those ugly ass shoes this whole time, you'll give yourself that.

He almost looks surprised, shocked that you at least carry half of the brain cell to remember things. Something's clicking, not exactly sure what it is but something is indeed clicking within your mind.

"How do you know about that?!" you reach out for his hand and start coating another thick layer onto his nails.

"It's not exactly like your subtle, none of you are subtle when you're horny."

You remove your shoes in the middle of painting over his index finger and toss them somewhere you're not looking. Those atrocities should be burned like you were when trying to iron your own clothes. You know better than to do household chores now.

"And you are, huh?" you move onto the other hand and ask for him to start blowing air onto his fingers.

"No," you grin, teeth and everything. "but it's one of my redeeming qualities."

He laughs loudly at your remark, ruining his shirt with the veneer and you smack him once he does so. And maybe you're a little more fond of Tanaka that you previously thought.

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You're splayed across the grass in your clothes for sleep, Yachi is beside you still in her manager attire and is next to you in a stiff and uncomfortable pose. For some reason, you can't really bring yourself to sleep even as you were exhausted a few hours ago. The other managers excused the both of you for dinner but you can't seem to bring yourself to do anything that aides your well being. You kinda just wanna decompose into the flowers and then reproduce asexually so you don't have to deal with the troubles of acquiring bath salts.

She turns her body to face you and mutters out, "We should go to sleep soon."

"Yeah, yeah," you dismiss her remark and sink into the grass, staring up at the bright ass moon. "are you mad at me?"

She doesn't answer at first and the lack of a reply doesn't aide your partial guilt over how you've behaved these past days. Despite you being older, Yachi's been the responsible one for as long as you can remember and she should grow more resilience to the bullshit you put her through. She sighs and lifts herself from the ground, resting her arms on her propped legs.

"Not really, can't exactly expect you to be anybody but yourself." she doesn't sound disappointed and that's all that you can really hope for at the moment.

You rise alongside her and give a slight grin, "I love you, y'know."

You open your arms out and beckon her towards you, the blonde joining into your embrace with such ease. You don't know why you don't hug Yachi more often, she's so cuddly and could tame all the domestic desires within your bimbo aspirations. Your hypothesis being supported through this very moment where you quickly learn the meaning of love is within small blonde girls.

"I love you too."

Everything seems to go right when you don't have sex, maybe you know where Christians are coming from now.

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"I am trying to hack into the secrets of my mind," you explain to Tanaka while playing Gardenscapes on your phone.

He's a genuine idiot, but so are you and you have finally found some common ground with the other students that have gathered here today. This is how John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th president of the United States, would've spent his time with his wife before he got 360 no scoped by Lee Harvey Oswald. How much you actually know about American history will never cease to amaze you.

Y'know how like two days ago, you said you would never make friends with any of these losers? Well, Tanaka appears to be the only one that knows the struggles of being a simp and you two have bonded over the trauma. Sort of, you kinda just say hi to Kiyoko and then he's on the verge of passing out once again. Although, she brings a lot to the table in terms of being better than the both of you in every single way. You are too close to being the mastermind of Kiyoko Shimizu cult, just like Scientology except you don't scam people and you actually worship something worthwhile.

Tanaka just keeps asking if you have any good games on your phone, but all you ever download are apps that make you legally skilled.

"Oi, Ryuu, are you gonna eat with us? Daichi wrapped practice!" Another short dude stops in front of where the two of your sit, he's awfully pale and you wonder if he's a vampire.

He turns to look at you for an awkward second before answering, "Ah, I actually got something to do, Noya. I'll see you in a bit!"

That's weird, the dude never misses out on a chance to be near his ultimate goddess and nothing you can offer is better than the way those four girls cook. They somehow know how to operate an oven while you are forced to wake up Asa in the middle of the night and send her to the kitchen to make dinosaur chicken nuggets. Once Nishinoya leaves, Tanaka rises up from his spot and promptly lifts you up as well. You thought your fat ass would make it impossible to pick up, but you also forgot that this dude also managed to lift you up into the air two days ago.

He proceeds to drag you outside and the feeling that you're being coerced into a kidnapping arises, "What are you up to? Is this like that scene in Mean Girls 2 where they spy on Tessa from Camp Rock and her sexist love interest on a date?"

He gives you a funny look before ignoring any further ramblings. You feel like you're the only one who actually remembers that movie and its plot, which is good because no one should be subjected to that knock sequel with none of the original cast except the principal. It's like how they made American Psycho 2 with Mila Kunis and then proceeded to ruin everything about Patrick Bateman being a hot psychotic killer. The Notebook could've been a better succeeding movie than both of those films, time-traveling Regina George falls in lose with Ryan Gosling before they reunite while being old and saggy.

Wait, what are you doing again? Oh right, being led to your death by Tanaka while your final inner monologue is about the problem with cash grab films.

You try to focus on where he's going but all he's doing is taking weird paths that turn from being inside and outside and going on the second floor before being led inside a dark gym. Oh wait, that's where you guys stop. The two of you being left alone in a giant gym that reeks of Clorox wipes, your dream date. 

He lets go of your hand for a second to close the doors behind him and the flash of light gives you temporary blindness. You blink a few times to adjust to the weirdly bright lighting of every gym and you're left in shock over what he's made for the both of you. A fort made out of five volleyball carts and two thin blankets acting as the roof and floor.

"Oh my god, wait," tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you raise a hand to your mouth, "are you ▬▬ are you simping for _me_?"

He nods and now that you think about it, the gesture is sweet but what would you even do in there. There's no entertainment and you have made Yachi your official cuddle buddy, you cannot cheat on her for another. But you also keep pondering what was the plan in the first place? Maybe he too wanted to be legally skilled.

You watch him try to figure out how to dim the lights and it kinda all clicks, "I would've sucked your dick free of charge."

"You would do that?!" oh, so you were wrong. He does a double-take, looking at the fort and then back at you. "Would you still do that?!"

"I'm not saying that I wouldn't _not_ suck your dick right now." you look at him, getting a bit too excited for your usual taste but it suits him. "I mean, would you want ▬▬"

He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the homemade fort, "Hell yeah!"

You found another friend, in your own weird way.


	6. I'M A PERVERT WITH A PURPOSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back. is this good? uh, i don't know but [y/n] fucked lev so it's okay.

Mid-way slumps were always a bit infuriating to you. Sure, everyone got into a funk every now and then but this was an extreme case of that. After all, who becomes so depressed in the middle of the game from sucking so much? Okay, that might be the wrong way to phrase your question. It's not like it really matters anyway, Fukurodani seems to be doing perfectly fine even without their boisterous captain.

Yet, Karasuno seems to be holding their own weight up against them. At least, that's what the scoreboard indicates every time you take a glance and see the two teams are neck and neck. In the meantime, you focus on drawing characters from Ratatouille on the clipboard Yachi lent to you. So far you've drawn two rats and are starting on that blond dude with a square head that killed another man with just his thumb.

"[Y/n], did you see that?!" your friend calls out from the court and you start nodding without any hesitation.

"Totally, Tanaka, I am totally in the zone."

You're not, you're having a hard time drawing a thumb with a permanent marker. It doesn't seem like he even notices your lack of attention towards whatever he was doing moments before. Things have just gotten so boring. You've wandered around campus, dealing with the scolding of elders, picked at meals that have grown bigger in size. Moments have been converted into long hours, maybe your fingernails have grown in a mere few seconds, but no one has aged even by a day.

They're all so pretty it makes you want to cry.

You're not insecure over how attractive you are, but you've often heard that with good looks breeds charisma and you often find yourself looking the mirror. Appreciating how your genes have favored you to be the pretty child, but your brain begs for constant stimulation whether of an idiotic kind doesn't matter. Maybe you're like a nymphomaniac or something, it wouldn't disturb you as much as it would intrigue. It's just like picking out a trait for a Sim except someone got horny and wanted to see 2-D people get it on.

If you were a loser, you could see the purpose of hentai but you also don't. All you really need is Abella Danger and a room with a lock because you are on a different plane of existence where you try and analyze Bella Thorne's directorial debut as a short film that doubles as a porno. Anyways, you continue drawing on the clipboard, no one really paying any mind towards your quiet antics.

"Is this really what you waste your time on?" you hear a voice croon from beside you and your eyes flicker sideways to see Kuroo sat to your right. He thinks the two of you are friends after you gave him a handjob, it seems everyone wants to be your friend for some odd reason.

You raise a finger to shush him and draft another page, "Excuse me, you do not get to criticize my hobbies. I simply making an observation of my surroundings."

"You're drawing rats."

"Exactly."

He doesn't question you, he's learned not to do so after everything that's come out of your mouth. Kuroo seems far more focused on the match before him instead of staring a conversation with you anyway. It's not like Yachi or Kiyoko have expressed interest in talking to you either, you're very sure that your blonde companion simply gave you the clipboard with printer paper for the sole purpose of attempting to entertain you. At least you haven't gotten to the stage of drawing multiple realistic dicks since it's much easier to do that than a detailed cooch.

The task becomes dull anyway and the board flops into your lap as you slouch in your spot, it's not like bad posture does anything to deter your height. Maybe you should just start to rewatch Hannah Montana out of pure nostalgia and the reminder that you get the limo out front. At least, that's the only lyric you remember out of a three-minute theme song. How do the lyrics to that even go anyways?

Your mind soon trails down another path of useless thoughts where you have picked up the blank pages, beginning to write what you think the correct verses for a theme song created in the early 2000s. It might be wrong considering you only recognize a few words before it spurs into a chaotic mash-up of Best of Both Worlds, Super Bass, and Phantom of the Opera. How you even made the mistake in the first place is unclear but you are now your own Beethoven, you've birthed a masterpiece.

Branding yourself a musical genius, your eyes flicker from the page to the court and unexpectedly find something far more interesting than it would seem at first glance. A tall gangly boy with silver hair, not exactly eye-catching but it's enough for you to be satisfied. You notice his shirt before moving down to his red shorts, his uniform looks awfully familiar. Oh, wait, Kuroo's wearing that.

You don't think much of it and sign your initials on the bottom of your masterpiece in order to copyright, but your brain cells have finally decided to click. _Kuroo's wearing that_.

You shuffled your thighs against the door—the idea seemed good hypothetically before you proceeded into action—and it takes a while before you actually face him with legs still crossed. "Who is _that_?"

The upperclassman appears a bit confused before you point across the court to see the dude getting his ass handed to him by the midget that likes to make baseless accusations. He's not a lawyer, he can't prove you're a whore with witness testimony.

"Lev, our first-year wannabe ace." Kuroo pauses, taking a drink from his bottle before wiping away any stray water. "You wouldn't want someone like him."

"You should know that I don't have a type."

He hums, you don't know whether he took your statement as a compliment or an insult. Your eyes are still trained on him, maybe your wearing him down by uncomfortably staring for a long period of time. "What? You want me to introduce you to him?"

"Well, if you were to be such a gentleman—"

"Fine, come on." the black-haired boy rises from his spot and helps you right after. "Just promise me I won't regret this."

"Can't make promises that I can't keep."

You think that's the least he can accept from you and calls out to the boy that's nearly comatose on the other side of the gym. Lev, it's a pretty name.

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"Is everyone as pretty as you?"

You're certain that your heart drops to your stomach when he says that, but it's entirely uncertain whether it's from joy or stress. "You don't have to get sentimental, all you did was blow a load into a condom."

You don't really know how you even ended up in this situation without being over critical by your lack of context clues and having a jaded thought process. It's a clear fact that you work fast but you didn't expect insufficient contact with a stranger was good enough for you to take his virginity. All of it seems even too fictional for your tastes, it's not as if your body count is not hysterically mythical as well.

Lev seems kinda dumb and you're okay with that, you don't have much room to talk. He sent you emojis around eight o'clock which consisted of a sandwich, a jellyfish, and a lesbian relationship. Although, it doesn't make it any clearer as he's loosely holding your hand after doing it in the auditorium. Maybe it's like the one episode of Spongebob with the iconic Jellyfish Jam being bumped and then in a weird twist, Lev thinks he's in lesbian with you. That's a thing that totally happens right? Yeah totally.

Especially when you remember he goes to the same school as the semi-threatening dwarf. Will he know that this kid isn't a virgin anymore? The intuition that boy has knows no bounds.

"Have you done this before?" his fingers have slipped away from your grasp and hands you back your shirt, one you thought you lost forever within the murky midnight of a smelly school theater.

"Yeah, but like party."

All this week has blurred together when you try to look back on it and you're certain that your brain has melted into a puddle of mush. Party? What the fuck did that even mean? Yet, somehow it makes sense. Like the words of the great Messiah, Lightning McQueen once said—life is a highway and I'm gonna ride it all night long until I'm forced to do community service for a crime that I did and develop some form of character development before being fucked over in the sequel where my best friend is recruited as an international spy.

You got all the lyrics stuffed inside your mega mind, the power you hold.

"What does that mean?"

"Huh? Like party?" he nods eagerly as if the term can be shared, a secret term shared between the two of you. In reality, that's the first time the word has been used in this sort of context. "I don't know, dude, just party."

You're pretty sure that he still doesn't understand how the word is supposed to be used, you don't exactly blame him for not being able to. The shirt within your hands now smells like mildew and a bit like bad breath after eating free breadsticks from Olive Garden, you didn't think that a place like this could hold so much flavor. Yet, it's less enticing to put on your clothes and go outside than just chill out in the poorly constructed wooden seats.

The green-eyed teen doesn't seem as if he wants to go anywhere either or rather he'd feel awkward leaving you here on your own. Someone will get suspicious of your whereabouts sooner or later but you have Yachi to cover that front. Is Lev a snitch? Not when he would probably blurt out what he was doing with you in the first place, it works for your favor.

You can't think of anything to waste time, stomach quietly grumbling before lazily turning your head to find the boy beside you being squished into his seat. "Wanna find a vending machine around here?"

It's not fun in a logical sense, but sending two idiots anywhere is bound to grovel up some form of leisure entertainment. That's what the economy was made for anyways, idiots and big tits.

A grin grows on his face and he jumps up from his seat, knees banging against the row in front of him. It's a sound the echoes throughout the silent room and a muffled groan follows it, "Party."

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

A barbeque seems like a fun concept when Yachi explained it to you, but she often liked exaggerated how great things would be for her own good. When it came to execution, you didn't expect to do any work yet the other manager coerced you into chopping vegetables with their cute smiles. Do you even need to be healthy at a relaxing event where you relentlessly shove meat into your mouth? Not from past experiences you've had when dealing with meat.

Yet, it seems like everyone's enjoying themselves and that's all you can really ask for—as if you would ask for this in the first place. Mostly, all you've done it stuck nearby the girls since social interaction at a social event seems like too much work for you to actively participate in. Some have offered you a plate full of food, but typically you reject it—chugging your last four Redbulls seemed like a good idea when you first woke up.

"Y'all all we're doing is having a barbeque, I don't get why they're drooling." you scan your surroundings before catching a boy swallowing without chewing, pounding his chest as if that will make it go down. It's not like you help by just staring at him but another dude comes to save him, "My man almost choked!"

"B-But you didn't help Kage—"

"You don't know my life, Yachi."

She doesn't even try to argue with you and heads over to Kiyoko, you don't blame her for wanting to deal with you at this moment. You've been slightly distress over the idea of this turning into a Mama Mia scenario where the people you've slept with interact with one another while coming to terms you've fucked all of them and then proceed to sing a bunch of ABBA songs in order to relieve tension. Also, you've learned through your MBTI personality that you're destined to buy a Teletubby costume and suck dick for crack, but who are you to avoid fate?

You've moved over to a new spot nearby the gym steps, watching as some captains bother younger players and shoving food in their faces. You see Yamaguchi beside one and a half blonds—he tries to wave at you although you just turn to focus on something else. It doesn't take much as you feel a strange aura emanating from behind you and watch as Nishinoya, Tanaka, along with another boy all stand in a line and move in a circular threatening manner.

It's ludicrous to have a snort sharply exhumed from your nose, you have to put your palm to your force in order to keep another one from escaping. "Stop, I'm gonna cry. Tanaka, please,"

As expected they don't stop in the name of Kiyoko, a name which you respect to your core, and wander off again to find solace within someone you recognize. Maybe Lev is around—he seems cool especially since he keeps his money at the band of his underwear and you admittedly do the same—and it'd be nice to ask how he got his ass handed to him when he was noticeably gone for something close to three hours.

"Damn, why are all my baes dying today?" Kageyama is not your bae but he's not close enough to hear you say that, all you've ever done is tell him that he should sock that small ass tangerine whenever he acts up. He disagrees as he'd prefer to keep his place on the court and not as another video of a fight within your photos.

Surprisingly, you haven't met a lot of people through this whole experience. You've finally learned the names of everyone on the Karasuno volleyball team by Yachi making you study with flashcards, but it's not like you'll ever talk to someone on the team and act as if you know them personally. It's all a bit isolating considering you started your experience in volleyball only started a few weeks prior but you think back on the only friend you have.

Koganegawa. You wonder what he's even up to and begin to pull out your phone.

**rina sawayama chump sauce**  
uuhhhh i miss the constant validation from your attention  
so we should hang or something when i get back

**stupid ass cringe baby**  
Cool! I'll make plans for us.  
Can't wait for you to get back.

**rina sawayama chump sauce**  
thanks kanji

Sometimes things feel right, maybe getting a week of dick is the perfect recipe for a balanced life.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"Do you think we'll ever see them again?" Yachi asks you to walk a bit behind the boys.

It's been a week. A long stretched week, the weight of social interaction finally falling onto your shoulders and you feel like you've been kicked in the gut. Yet, everyone seems relaxed especially when they're the ones who have been doing the most work and all you have been doing is falling prey to apps with extremely bad apps. In your defense, Lily needs help tending to her garden when she's masturbating on top of washing machines.

"Bitch, I hope the fuck not. I will not be Meryl Streep copycat."

"Devil Wears Prada or Mamma Mia?"

It's an important question, one you take a few seconds to dwell on. "Mamma Mia with the overall aesthetic of Devil Wears Prada."

She nods and usually this is where Hannah Montana sings a series of _yeahs_ and _oohs_ in order to transition into the next scene with a bunch of laugh tracks for jokes that aren't even that funny if you're over the age of 14. In reality, you just need a long especially since your midnight excursions have not done anything good for your skin—you've started to see bags forming under your eyes but eye bags are still sexy on your face.

You've already started to descend down the looming set of stairs when the other schools decide to wave you off with a cute promise of meeting once again. You hope you never do so again. That's on Rocky Blue getting her foot sliced with a dirty piece of glass because of Cece's stupid ass and everyone overacting because she had to go to surgery. Ah, you miss Rocky Blue, that bitch had rhythm.

Yet, your gay pining for a character that does not exist has been put on hold as you hear someone call out to you, stopping to see who is reenacting the last scene in a rom-com where they chase after each other in an airport.

"[L/n], [L/n]!" the voice sounds familiar and you turn to see Lev bounding up to you, your little blonde friend hiding behind your frame. He's panting through a smile, _creepy_ , but he's put a lot of effort into being stupid so you listen "Can I have your number?"

You think of immediately saying no at first, that you do not need to interact with him past laughing deliriously at his puns while resting against a vending machine. Although, he's one of the chillest motherfuckers you've seen here and it seems that some entertainment can be sourced from going along with his antics. Maybe Kuroo's line about having him not regret you meeting Lev wasn't about you fucking him, but keeping contact after the act. You let out a dry laugh and shrug, "Uh, sure."

"Hell yeah! I told you I could do it, Kuroo!"

"Not my fault I thought you were too incompetent to flirt!"

You grin at the small interaction, thinking that maybe it would be so terrible to see these idiots bumbling around while you laugh your ass off. Perhaps the friends you all made along the way were all the boys you fucked in a week, having relationships with other people seems so easy now that you know that you can play around with people's genitals and then have an automatic place in their heart.

Returning to your group, you wave off a series of strangers and familiar faces. But who knows? Maybe you'll recognize everyone soon enough.


	7. BEAT MY DICK WHEN I LOOK IN THE MIRROR

Returning to the school gym during summer break is not a pleasant experience. It’s as if the janitors never even touch this part of the school, you don’t blame them if they find semen residue clumped with hair in the boy’s showers to be disgusting, but you’d hope they think of people like _you_. People bamboozled into joining the volleyball club because of your attraction to titties outweighs your morals. And while you haven't stared at them through the fabric of the green tracksuit she wears, you can assume that Mai's are nice because you're not a weirdo who describes them as milky white and bouncy.

Yet, you've only been out of school for two weeks and here you are returning to your institution after barely returning from another one. Although, raising your body count has a pleasant experience in more ways than one. Being sexy, wearing no clothes, fucking, cheating, etc ▬▬ Lana Del Rey would surely put you in her unrevised essay made on a typewriter before twitter being mad at her and then doing nothing really substantial. Because you are all of the above, you check off all the boxes that maybe you'd release your own studio album at one point.

Besides the long-winded monologues that go on through your head to make time go faster, you arrive at Date Tech's second gym precisely five minutes after ten o'clock. Five minutes after the coach has told all you to meet, five minutes after Kanji last texted you, and five minutes after seeing on the members purposely close the door on you while you leisurely stroll through the courtyard. Maybe he thought you were one of those moms that powerwalk to nowhere on the weekends, that'd be understandable because you borrowed your cousin's Juicy Couture tracksuit.

And it doesn't help that the first person you meet while entering the gym is Futakuchi Kenji, bent over the metal water fountain while loudly slurping. You've never properly talked to him other than things about volleyball but you know that you dislike him, just from simple chat that you can't stand. Okay and maybe he thinks you're interested in the sport because _you joined the team_ but that's also a huge generalization on your character, you might even say that it's based.

Although you would possibly avoid him if you weren't peaking at his ass while slowly gliding across the checkered tile floor. So then maybe you bear some responsibility when his honey eyes finally meet yours and they suddenly narrow when he finally processes that it's your face he's looking at.

”You’re _late_.” and the manner in which he speaks makes it seems like he's only pretending to care. He's the captain of the team, the supposed leader when he's in the same classroom as you and he's the kid who does his homework as the teacher's collecting it.

The brunette is quick to follow you even as you try to escape into a gym full of people probably waiting for their captain. In reality, everyone’s off to the side doing stretches and Mai along with the coach are nowhere in sight. It’s like teenage boys just love to harass people out in the open because they know nothing will happen if their behavior is reported on. But it is what it is.

You drop your gym bag filled with nothing but casual clothes and your iPod from middle school that has a Hello Kitty case on it near the metal bench where the other manager should be waiting. It doesn't even work, but you like to keep it for the single purpose that the only song it can play is Judas by Lady Gaga. ”Yeah, get your whities out of your ass crack. I'm here now.”

He doesn't chastise you very often, just stares holes into the back of your head as if that'll give you the lobotomy you deserve. The least he could do is have laser eyes, that shit would be cool and fly. And maybe provide some weird tragic backstory that would make prepubescent children fall for him. It worked out for Superman at least.

"You were supposed to be here five minutes ago," he says as if his opinion has any significance on how you live your day to day life.

"One of these days, I'm gonna fucking snap from the trauma you imposed on me."

Your therapist, if you can ever afford to get one, will hear about this shit. They will only know two things about you before you evidently disappear and leave hints to your whereabouts as if this is Where’s Waldo. They will be aware that you practically dislike almost everyone you come across and that you will fuck those same people without care.

His grimace tightens and you wonder if he practices these expressions in the mirror. "You mean telling you to show up on time?"

"Yeah," you start tapping at your head while settling into the grooves carved into the metal bench. "I got the mind of a complete cycle path."

He looks at you and you stare right back at him with the same stupid smirk that always agitates him for no particular reason. You don't even do anything and that seems to shove a stick right up his ass. Well, maybe if you actually paid attention to half the shit Mai was talking about then he might get off your back as the captain of the volleyball team because your job is to manage these bitches. But you also don't have the attention span and forget why he even got mad at you in the first place.

You relax your posture and start weirdly moving along to nonexistent music because the soundtrack of your life is probably the Star-Spangled Banner, the only song to ever exist in the space of your head. Ignore the mash-up of three songs that have no correlation that happened last week, it is now only you seeing by the dawn's early light. 

"Koganegawa really had to settle for _you_?" Judging from the enunciation on you in his statement, he probably thinks you're a fucking idiot which is fair. But you have also made a dude eat a cum sandwich, so who's the real winner here?

"I can't stand you ungrateful bitches, the bitch knew what he was getting into. I think or either we were both blackout drunk."

The night happened so long ago that you don't really fucking care about the minor details. You might have shared too many margaritas and are aware of the long line of family that has been ruined due to their addict to alcohol but you also like toying around with the blender and tequila.

You narrow your eyes at him, finding his presence unnecessary after your long-winded interaction filled with something that can be perceived as sexual tension. You bet the dude sticks his dick in peanut butter and puts the jar back in the fridge. "Why are you still talking to me anyway? You're the captain, go do captain shit."

What exactly is captain shit? That knowledge is left to the void.

"I'm still watching you." he tries to be threatening but only his dumbassery signs through his smirk that's filled with bullshit. 

"Not as much as I am." you think you've won by saying that, but your brain takes a few seconds to process the words. That means you'll be paying attention to him! Ew, the only good thing about that pain in the ass is ▬▬ well, his ass. "Wait, I ain't even paying attention to him. Gonna curb stomp that cunt one of these days."

You probably do not have the leg strength to curb stomp someone, thunder thighs are reserved for those hunks you met at the volleyball camp. You pray they keep them things sculpted so that they can serve a future purpose. You pray these dumb bitches can find some way to get into Nationals. Surprisingly, you miss fucking around with kids you'll never see again.

It doesn't feel the same to fuck around with Futakuchi or maybe you need to try harder.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

"This was uneventful," you say as you simply sit in your underwear and a tank top. The locker room of any gym has suddenly become your least favorite space to fuck. "Like you couldn't even wait till it was inside?"

Screwing Futakuchi right after practice seemed reasonable enough in your mind, he’s always glaring at you for something and you’re horny on main all the time. It made sense to the single brain cell you had on why you should try to fuck the dude that you’ve presumptively disliked ever since meeting him. Though you do laugh at old people getting scared so maybe you don’t have a complex thought process.

However, your lack of brains is not in question in today’s session of judging what standards you should set for hookups. Today, at this moment, is how you regret thinking that just because someone is angry and is always giving off some form of sexual tension, does not mean you should always sleep with them. Especially when it seems that the volleyball clubs you interact with always seem to have a slew of virgins like some cult where they sacrifice them to the Volleyball Gods or whatever. You've never watched an entire match before.

"I'm sitting here with cum in my shorts, I don't even do my own laundry!" Even _you_ do your own laundry. What kind of monster is this guy to not know how to wash his clothes after a wet dream or jacking off?

You twiddle your thumbs in between your lap, you've gotten too worked up to put the tracksuit back on. Plus there’s no air conditioning in the locker room and your skin has already begun to feel sticky. You can’t even put on the bottoms anyway; how do you go home to a cum spot on blue fabric? Asa’s gonna try and erase the stain with a Tide fabric stick like she just misspelled clock and is worried the teacher will call Urano for another disciplinary meeting.

"Well, maybe if you waited until your dick was actually out of your shorts ▬▬"

You're quickly cut off by the brunette as he frantically searches the space around him, probably for a new pair of boxers. But you feel most of the dudes on the team don’t know how to wash their junk properly except for Aone. "I don't need criticism about my lack of sexual expertise,"

"Ugh, I need a new hobby other than fucking virgins. Think I could take up a pottery class?"

”I’m not a virgin!” he shouts as if raising his tone will make for a convincing argument. Sorry, your Honor, just assumed that the dude who insulted you an hour ago could actually make it until you wrapped a condom on him.

”Louder this time so _everyone_ can hear you and see that wet spot.” he huffs and you roll your eyes, pupils promptly landing on the gym bag in the corner ▬▬ specifically your gym bag. You completely forgot you had an extra outfit.

You were so caught up in the euphoria of having awesome hate sex that you forgot you lived in a world where you could have multiple outfits with you at the same time. In the words of business mogul and awesome cook, Paris Hilton, “that’s hot”. Not as hot as fucking a dude you platonically dislike but hot in the sense when your sister puts tomato on her burns and ruins your BLT.

But for occasions like these, you usually have a genius back up plan. ”Look you can make it up to me by taking me out, strictly just as two people chilling.”

”Making it up to you?”

“I'm sorry; who’s the one that can’t do their own laundry?” He stays quiet after that and he knows that it’s better if he’s just compliant with whatever you say. “Saturday, I’ll send you the deets.”

You’ve scored an all-expenses-paid date, strictly platonic.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

When meeting the team captain on the weekend, you don't exactly dress up in order to meet him. It's casual and simple with you wearing a tacky tie-dye shirt and some sweats that look like they've been dug up from the garbage. To be fair, you don't know half the things that it has gone through and you choose not to judge the radical journey while smelling like pube juice after every wash.

When walking down the street, people try to avoid you which doesn’t add up since you at least had the decency to fix your mug. Caked up face with homeless chic, you could argue a case of ironic fashion and be featured on the cover of Gucci. Doesn’t seem as if Futakuchi’s all too thrilled with the idea as he physically recoils once gazing upon your frame.

"You look like a child puked all over your clothes." there’s no greeting or sign of warmth, just a blunt teasing comment as he plugs his nose.

”Asa probably did vomit all over this.” that’s not something you should openly admit to the dude who’s treating you after nearly having sex with him. Yet, you think he’s too scared to oppose you at this point. To be fair, you’d have the same reaction if you met someone as sexy as yourself. “Didn’t say this was a date, just the two of us chilling as you pay for everything.”

”I’m practically poor.” As if you're any richer, you would not be here if you could afford the body pillows you keep bookmarked on the shared family computer.

”That’s how capitalism works, baby. Didn’t you notice I’m in cosplay.”

If capitalism was a person that had the sentience to dress, you’ve surely come close to what aesthetic it’d strive for. It’d like a hipster white dude who dresses dirty in order to relate to those in poverty but also lives in a loft with a minimalistic lifestyle to keep them humbled. Your low IQ acquaintance doesn’t seem to understand the nuances of how you dress but he also just likes bothering you because you’re easy to rile up.

He doesn't even seem well prepared to deal with whatever foolery you've acquired today. Such a shame considering most of your thoughts are produced by just trying to sit down and think, never works out in the end. One day, you will eat your own brain like that one scene in The Silence of the Lambs ▬▬ somehow, you think the pink matter will taste either like ceviche or maybe even pork. Perhaps then you'll gain the ultimate knowledge of the universe, understanding yourself and why you turned out like this.

"This is gonna be a dumpster fire." the brunette states with a grimace and you know that to be a fact because any alone time with you leads to disaster or someone getting tapeworm. Wait, does getting tapeworm fall under a disaster? You thought it was just a diet supplement.

You shrug and maybe you're just a little too casual about his lack of faith in you acting like a respectable member of society. "Hey, maybe we could buy twinkies and burn my clothes too."

His eyes narrow and if Futakuchi could provide any critical thinking skills, he would've never agreed to this shit in the first place. Then, he mirrors a shrug that's similar to yours and shoves his hands in his pocket. It doesn't seem like he has anything better to do today than be a functioning student ▬▬ so why not waste time with a lovely specimen such as yourself. 

"Only if we put you in a shower first." he offers and it's the best thing you've heard from his mouth other than "you're a freak, meet me in the locker room".

"Deal."

Showing up smelling like garbage juice seemed to be a much more productive part of your day, especially when your new companion learns that you wash your clothes in dirty dishwater so that you may stop the waste of water. It looks like he wants to yell at you for chastising him about it earlier but it doesn't make sense as to why you usually smell like coconut oil and lime or how your uniform always looks so clean.

Nothing about you makes sense. He finds it better to stop before he goes insane.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

”How was your date?”

"Huh? Oh, I was just joshing around with some dude."

It's not that late when you return home from your hang session with your newfound bro. Turns out that getting that raccoon smell wasn't as hard as he made it out to be and all it took was for you to get washed down with a power hose. You're surprised no one questioned why you came home dripping wet but Urano probably finds it strange when you come home as if nothing eventful is going on.

The older girl returns her attention back to the magazine, the chatter from the TV lulls away as you slouch into the recliner. "You sound like a psychopath whenever you do that "huh" thing."

"Hm, whatever." you've suddenly grown weary. Strange, you don't like the feeling of being tired or having nothing to do. Even by this point, you try and put whatever little focus you have onto homework just so you have an activity.

Yet, you feel a tiny creature plop into your lap and its sudden weight forces you to let out a groan. At first, you think Urano has thrown a textbook she found into your gut but something soon wraps around your waist and you're reminded that textbooks don't have arms. Looking down to see it's the one and only Asa, who has graced your presence with her pesky behavior that always results in piggyback rides. You hate the ability she has to coerce you into activities that require physical labor.

She doesn't say anything but maybe this is her way of getting some shit for free. Displays of affection do not come by for free and your eyes travel to the kitchen to see the styrofoam box you brought home, looks like you're giving up a luxury breakfast. "Got a box of leftovers that you can feed to that dog."

"Really?" her eyes twinkle with a fake ass smile to accompany it. This is what she wanted.

You undeservingly reward her fakeness and you don't know who loses or gains karma points in the game called Life. "Totally,"

She's quick to run off to her true comrade, the bitch ass dog who wanders around for somebody to feed him as you sink further into the couch. Maybe you should get hosed down more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if this chapter is kinda bad. i really like it but at the same time i hate it and i think it's just that feeling that i'm done with my junior year and i'm going into my final year of high school. so yeah, i promise to do better in the next chapter!


	8. WHEN I GET TO WHERE I'M GOING, GONNA HAVE YOU TREMBLING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this wasn't funny but everything i make should be a cry for help

The match against Aobajohsai is pathetic, at best. You hate to admit that Koganegawa messed up all the possible spikes, but you are a liar with flair. So maybe he did, but maybe the friends we made along the way were really all the spikes that your gangly blonde comrade fucked up. If that's how the saying goes, you never really good with idioms and your score on your first-year finals proves that. Yet, even as he admits his faults towards the end of the match where they all inevitably met with the first-years, you are greeted with something greater.

A small blonde scurries over to you, jumping up and wrapping her arms around your frame. She is like a baby and probably the only reason you can carry her without immediately falling is that you've had your back blown out too many times to count. That is beside the point, from what you can discern you are met with the only person that doesn't like inside a simulation that revolves around you and all the crazy antics you managed to put yourself through.

"[Y/n]," she sounds genuinely happy to see you which is a much different tune than when she scolded you for banging Yamaguchi and keeping it a secret for so long. In all honesty, you kinda forgot that even happened. "we saw the Date Tech match! Sorry about your loss."

"You make it sound like my second cousin died, I'm still around for another year." You don't even know if you have any extended family in Japan, but maybe that's for the best because your second cousin would definitely be dead if he knew the likes of you.

Your eyes flicker through the crowd of people as you soon realize you are in the middle of a hallway and while people might wanna stare at your ginormous ass, people might also yell at you for letting it take that much space. You gently lead her over to the side, though in the midst of your mission, you see a familiar face. Tanaka beams once he sees you and waves with his face weirdly transforming into some parody of what girls think handsome guys look like. Yet, you don't go over to speak to him and focus your attention back onto Ms. Life in the Dream House for a second.

She doesn't look eager to enter the gym with the rest of the team but you also are aware of the fact that two managers can't be on the court at the same time. Sitting in the bleachers brought back some strange memories and you suddenly had a craving for M&Ms. But this brings a new idea and you stare down at the troll doll before you. "I don't wanna go home so I'm staying with you." she almost looks like she wants to say something else but you cut her off before she can. "That was also not an invitation."

She nods and loosely hooks onto your fingers as she leads you up to the bleachers once again. There's some cheering once you enter the seats, from the likes of some scruffy old dudes but also there's a large crowd of students sitting on the other side with neatly painted banners that have words you can't really make out. But between the screaming of teenage boys going through the worst time of their lives, there's a single word you can make out. "Oikawa", they shout and it's like a mantra on their tongues.

The name sounds familiar but nothing you can really place on the spot, ignoring the greetings from weird old dudes watching a high school volleyball tournament as you wrack through the crevices of your mind. After a few minutes, you realize that you got nothing and slump into one of the chairs with feet perched on the edge of your seat. Watching a team of boys you barely know start to warm up and hearing the voices get louder as another set of boys enter the gym.

This shit feels overly hyped. Where was all this love when you showed up to class with your Tony Lopez cardboard cutout?

As you peer down into the soulless pit of despair and sweat, there's a brunette that stands out to you. He's confident and arrogant, not your type but you feel like you could work with it. Fuck it, you've worked with everything and everyone by now. Yachi must notice your staring as she clears up your confusion over this less than intriguing boy, "Hinata said Oikawa was Kageyama's old senpai."

She says that like previously situated relationships have ever perturbed your endeavors to get laid and even though you have made Kageyama your base, it cannot stop you from fucking his previous upperclassmen. You just don't really know how long you can wait to just get some above-average dick, C grade level you assume. These matches feel like they could go on forever and you don't have forever.

Well, you have a few hours before it gets dark and Asa starts hitting up your phone to ask where she left her Monster High dolls. She always sneaks inside your room even though they're never there and then uses brand new condoms as dresses, forcing you to wipe the lube off those plastic hand me downs.

"Please don't fuck him." she whines in a soft voice, tugging on the sleeve of the Date Tech tracksuit Mai made you wear because you're apart of a "team". You still have no idea what the fuck that means, you have no core of loyalty. The team to you is people you put together for your imaginary gangbangs.

"Does anybody like him?"

She pauses, pursing her lips in that cute way that only works on girls and babies sometimes. The sometimes is only when you take their baby snacks out of their mom's basket and look them in the eye after attempting to throw hand with a middle-aged woman. "Um,"

"Yachi, I know you don't understand my ways but I need you to know that when I see someone that sexy▬▬" you point out into the court in no particular direction. You could be pointing at Nishinoya for all you know and in all fairness, something about his midget height does get your motor running. "I need to fuck them."

In all honesty, you don't just really want to fuck Oikawa. I mean, you do but you would also like to know what it would feel like to just be passed around by a bunch of volleyball dudes before straight up just leaving their lives altogether. That's how Gone Girl went, right? You have no knowledge of cinema and you'd rather not bask in the idea of a white lady going batshit crazy.

"Fine, I know I can't stop you anyway." she lets go of your sleeve and focuses on the court, there's nothing that interesting happening. Just them tossing a ball around and trying to psyche each other up for a game that might end really poorly. Eyes flickering all over the court to just try and find a glimpse of something you consider interesting.

You grow bored quickly, it's time for a nap.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

You wake up in the middle of the second set, Yachi woke you up saying she had to go to the bathroom but was too scared to ask anybody else to go with her. Turns out she didn’t even take a piss because she was nervous you were gonna be mad at her for making you wait too long. It turns out you make her really fucking nervous but you don’t look too much into it.

Instead, you try and force yourself to focus on the match that seems to defy all logic of physics and you only know that Albert Einstein invented it in the 14th century or something. Oikawa spikes, all of Karasuno is fucked, and you're admiring the beefy arms of that one dude in the number 4 jersey. He could crush your skull if he put you in a headlock and your imagination is begging for it at this point.

"We're through one-third of the match.” an old man speaks and you wish to ban his presence from your existence mostly because he’s probably thirty and has nothing going for him anymore. I mean, he's at a high school volleyball tournament grasping on his final straws of youth, it's such loser behavior.

Wait, that shouldn't even be your first thought. You're more confused by the words coming out of his mouth. "What the hell is a one-thirds?"

You're pretty sure your question is loud enough for all those adults to hear it without turning their heads but they just ignore you. Who the fuck do they think they are? There's no way watching a bunch of hot teenage boys is more interesting than anything that you have to say. You're like a motivational speaker except you encourage people to drop out of school and catch some dick.

Yachi comes to your rescue, "Fractions, [Y/n], fractions."

" _Oh_ , I thought math was a government conspiracy."

"We've been taught it for like fourteen years."

"That's what makes it a conspiracy." it doesn't seem she doesn't want to press on this topic.

You peer over the balcony that separates you from promptly falling to your death and becoming a sexy hot ghost. There's little chance that the afterlife offers people like you the chance to be trapped in limbo but you've seen the classic 1990 feature film, Ghost, and you're way hotter than Patrick Swayze. You only know that because you printed a picture of him in color and held it up to your face for side by side comparison.

Yachi's seen the comparison and she's said you'd be a good replacement if they ever created a Japanese remake of Dirty Dancing and need someone to dance with another equally hot chick. You offered the nonexistent part of your love interest to her but she seemed more interested in being in the American sequel of the Sixth Sense with Bruce Willis except they're both ghosts and have a weird borderline fetishy relationship. She didn't come up with that though, you read an old journal that was left in her bag in middle school.

You never did find out who wrote that role for her but you claimed all the credit for it and she believed you without a second thought. She probably still doesn't believe that time you revealed that it was a page in a journal filled with sketches of her side profile. And while normal people should've been concerned, you were more amazed by the person's art skills.

Thoughts escape you as your stomach rumbles and groan as you turn to your side and reach out for your best friend, "Can we buy a pretzel?"

"I don't think they sell that here." she hums, lips pursing in thought while she searches the gym ceiling for an answer. You figure God won't come down and tell you what snacks they sell in a musty gym but the thought is cool enough to just wish that it might just happen. "Do you wanna grab a water and a sandwich?"

"Okay if your gonna serve me prison food then you might've at least a death row meal."

"Asa would've given you uncooked beef and raw spaghetti noodles. You don't have room to complain."

You look at her then at your empty bag where a Ziploc bag filled with ketchup and melted ice cream. Why does Yachi always make you set realistic expectations for what you really deserve? "Fine," you follow her little swaying bob out of the bleachers into the hallways.

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"That was a fun game," you smile slightly at Yachi who sits on the bus bench beside you. She was only excused to head home with you because you hit your shin against a water fountain and faked it as an emergency, he also remembers you to be her step-sibling. Going the extra mile never hurts, "it was all _wow_ and _ooh_."

She laughs and you figure she's gonna compare you to her little pumpkin boy toy. You've never even had a proper conversation with Hinata but something doesn't sit right when you see him so close to her. "You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?"

She probably knows more about volleyball than you do and she got coerced around the same time you did. You know you're stupid and a somewhat slow loser but you wonder if she could ever do any better than having you for a best friend. Maybe she's only stuck around for so long because of nostalgia and she misses how you used to stay over and braid her hair. She's probably hanging onto a version of yourself that you cannot connect with anymore but you don't mind as long as it keeps her around.

You sling an arm around her frail shoulders, tugging her close into your side. "I'm learning, gonna be like Dan Bilzerian."

"Wasn't he arrested for fraud?"

"Exactly!"

The thought of embezzling funds that come from the volleyball has come to your mind before but you do not have the energy to even search up the definition of embezzlement and what kind of funds they even receive. Kiyoko seems smart enough, you have to make sure she knows how to commit fraud first before subtly hinting on the fact that you would like to earn money without working a single day. You and her could just make bank by fucking with old people and degenerate dudes.

Your eyes graze over Yachi again, looking tranquil as she stares into the fading sun. The game is probably still going and she'll hear of the score when she's back in school while you'll be forced to be witness to third-year tears and brats crying over how much they'll miss them. It's kinda sad when people leave, but that's just the way life goes and you can't do much about aging. Even if you hate old people, you still wanna smoking hot bod by the time you're sixty.

She speaks softly into your jacket, cheeks flushing as she notices her gaze on you. "I don't think I could've gotten here without you."

"God, stop getting all sappy on me. We're a good team all on our own." you roll your eyes and nuzzle her fluffy head, watching how her face scrunched up in mock annoyance.

In the distance, there's a sound. You peer down the street to find the bus rumbling down the tar painted road, watching how your destination flashes in number shaped lettered. So close before you realize that your short career as a manager is over. You always have next year but that means you have to carry on the torch but nobody could really compare to you. That's a thought for another day.

"Yeah," she still holds onto you as the bus pulls up to your stop. "I just don't want this to end."

You don't either.

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Yachi invites you over to stay at her house after you admitted that you don't really feel like dealing with your family today. You could overdose on the caffeine in all the Redbull's you drink but they'd still find some way to bring you back to life just so they can yell at you. And her mom is nice enough, you're pretty sure she just assumed you're dating her daughter. She doesn't cook dinner but she makes pleasant small talk.

Usually, the two of you eat the pop-tarts she stores under her bedframe while watching really bad game shows that prominently feature businessmen trying to make a quick buck off their ambition. Surprisingly, she finds joy through these channels that just bring out misery to their wasted potential. Somebody should tell these annoying game hosts to shut the fuck up more.

But Yachi isn't giggling or smiling like she usually is. She's kinda antsy and shifting around her comforter while you lay on your back. It strains your neck but it also opens for the inevitably that a sexy vampire might break through your window and rip straight through your neck, you've been itching for physical intimacy.

"How do you do it?" she asks from beside you but you make no move that acknowledges her voice. You're trying to process the fact that Yachi Hitoka wanted to fuck somebody and didn't tell you about it. That breaks the friendship code of 1888 or something.

You shrug, neck cracking as you crane it in order to make eye contact with her. "I don't know, I just kinda drag them into an empty space and say do your magic."

That is so not how you have sex with people, it's usually very drunk and after you try to smoke three blunts simultaneously. Still, you've been looking to jazz up your routine because all this repressed sexual tension you had with that gnome at that training camp has not been released.

"Could you teach me?" you splutter as you hear the words come out of her mouth. Brows furrowing as you make sure she's not fucking with you but she looks flushed and warm as if she got flustered from building up the courage to just ask you.

You don't know how to respond. Turns out "fucking your best friend" porn is not very popular on the internet.

"I could like finger you, I guess," you suggest and this was supposed to go so much smoother in your head. This was a moment you planned for your mid-twenties where you would be Yachi's sexual awakening after she silently pinned after you since high school and was too scared to admit it. This was supposed to be like Hallmark edition cheesiness with like sex scenes every five minutes.

How do you initiate sexual encounters with your best friend? You awkwardly insinuate that you wiggle around your digits inside their cooch just to see if she reacts. She nods, unable to speak any further, and lays down on her back. God, Tanaka is gonna push you for details the moment you text him about this. You tentatively peck her lips, she tastes like brown sugar. And why the fuck is it so hard to be bolder around girls?

She turns her lamp off, the television being the only thing to illuminate the room. Some things were just made to happen.


End file.
